
Class _^_ 

Book . 

GopyrightN°._ 



CflEiailGJIT DKMSIE 



I 






THE CANAL AT MONNIKENDAM 



Odd Bits of Travel 

^ ^ N^ witK ^ ^^ ^^ 

Brush and Camera 



by 



CHARLES M. TAYLOR, Jr. 

Author of *' Vacation Days in Hawaii and Japan " 

and "The British Isles Through an 

Opera Glass," Etc., Etc. 



Profusely Illustrated by the Author 



Philadelphia 

GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. 

103 and 105 South Fifteenth Street 



Library oi Con*" i-crSJS; 

i 

NOV 22 1900 

SECOND COPY 

OcKviirod to 

ORDER 01VtSlQ^ 



Copyright, 1900, by 
George W. Jacobs & Cq 



TO MY WIFE 



Preface. 



N almost every walk of life, even among artists 
and photographers, we find those who are 
enthusiasts, and who work with such ardor 
and perseverance as to overcome all diffi- 
culties; while there are others who seem to desire 
the hard and rough places smoothed down, and the 
obstacles removed from their pathways. In writing 
this volume, it has been my purpose to enlist the at- 
tention of both of these classes, and to bring before 
the ardent worker as well as the ease-loving, but no 
less interested, follower of art, places and scenes 
that afford unusual attractions for the brush and 
camera. 

It might truthfully be said that in one's city may 
be found innumerable subjects of interest to both 
the amateur and professional artist; but change of 
food, scene and atmosphere is beneficial to both 
mind and body, and it is ofttimes wise to pass to 
new scenes and broader fields of observation. 

The places described herein are not linked together 
by proximity of location and follow no regular line 



4 Preface 

of travel; but are selected from various lands and 
from among v/idely differing peoples, for the sole 
purpose of locating scenes that teem with paintable 
and photographic subjects. I have endeavored to 
select nooks and corners where the artist and pho- 
tographer will have suitable accommodations, and 
where the country with its fresh, pure air, and 
wholesome food may build up the health, while at 
the same time an opportunity is afforded for filling 
the portfolio with delightful bits of scenery and 
characteristic figure studies. It has also been my 
aim to tell of countries and places comparatively 
easy of access, and where those of limited means 
may find satisfactory accommodations. 

At times 1 digress in my pictorial descriptions and 
offer some Bits of personal experience that have be- 
fallen me upon my journeys, which I trust may 
prove of interest and perhaps be of service to others 
travelling through the same places. It is with these 
purposes in view that the following pages have 
been written, and my hope is that they may serve 
to guide other lovers of the beautiful to some of the 
attractive spots and fascinating views which I have 
attempted to describe in these Odd Bits of Travel. 

Philadelphia, ipoo. C. M. T., Jr. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Scenes of the Present and Relics of the Past 
Passing Vessels — The Ocean — Sudden Changes — Taking Pho- 
tographs — The Landing-Stage at Liverpool — New Brigh- 
ton — In the Country — Liverpool by Night — Salvationists 
— Old Taverns — Chester — An English Home — Relics — 
The Cathedral — The River Dee — Leamington — The River 
Learn — Warwick Castle — An Old Mill — Through Kenil- 
worth, Coventry and Stoneleigh — " The King's Arms " — 
Nature's Pictures 15 

Lights and Shadows of London Life 
The Shadow Side — The Slums — The City by Night — Vice and 
Misery — "Chinese Johnson's " Opium Den — The " Bunco" 
Man — An English Guard — " The Grand Old Man " — 
Caution to Tourists — Great Cities by Night — The Seven 
Dials— Derby Day— The Tally-Ho— Old Robin Hood 
Inn — Epsom Hill — The Races — Exciting Scenes — Side 
Shows — The Close of the Day 57 

Scenes in the Gay Capital 
Dover to Calais — Paris — The Gay Capital by Night — Boule- 
vards — Life in the Streets — Champs Elysees — Place de 
la Concorde — Arc d'Etoile — Place Vendome — Louvre — 
Opera House — Palais Royal — Church of the Invalides — 
Versailles — Notre Dame — Jardin Mabille — The Madeleine 
— The Pantheon — The Banks of the Seine — French 
Funeral Ceremonies — La Morgue — Pere Lachaise .... ?)^ 
5 



6 Contents 

PAGE 

Antwerp and the City of Windmills 

From Paris to Antwerp — Along the Route — Thrifty Farmers — 
Antwerp — Dogs in Harness — The River — Old Churches 
— Chimes — An Inappreciative Listener — Steen Museum 
— Instruments of Torture — Lace Industry — Living Ex- 
penses — Hospitality — The City of Windmills — Watery 
Highways— A City of Canals — The Maas River — The 
Houses on the Canals — Travel by Boat — Novel Scenes — 
Costly Headgear — Dutch Costumes — Powerful Draught 
Horses — No Bonbons — Chocolate Candy — In the Market- 
place — The Belle of the Market — Photographs — Wooden 
Shoes — Drawbridges — Blowing the Horn — Ancient Relics 
— The Sword of Columbus loi 

A City of Many Islands 
Amsterdam — The People of Holland — Amstel River — Merry 
Excursionists — Interesting Institutions — Origin of the 
City — Source of Prosperity — A Cousin to Venice — Ninety 
Islands— Beams and Gables — Block and Tackle — Old 
Salesmen — Street Markets — Haarlem — Railway Travel 
at Home and Abroad — Ancient Buildings — Historic As- 
sociations — In the Canal — Groote Kerk — The Great 
Organ — Picturesque Subjects — Zandvoort — Eau de Co- 
logne — The Beach — Dutch Sail Boats — Seamen — Hooded 
Chairs — Peddlers — Music in Holland and Germany — 
Gypsies — We Meet an Artist — Hospitality — A Banquet . 127 

Excursions to Broek and the Island of Marken 

A Charming Journey — Fellow-Passengers — National Costumes 
— The Children — A Lovely Landscape — Holstein Cattle 
— Windmills— Irrigation — Farmers — A Typical Dutch 
Village— Washing-Day— The Red, White and Blue- 
Suppose a Bull Should Appear — A Brilliant Picture — 
Drawing the Canal Boat — Honesty and Cleanliness— A 



Contents 7 

PAGE 

Thrifty and Industrious People — Farming and Cheese- 
making — As Evening Falls — Scenes for an Artist — Dead 
Cities of Holland — Monnikendam — Behind the Age — City 
Lamps — Houses and People — The Island of Marken — An 
Isolated Wonderland — First Impressions — Rare Holidays 
— The Family Doctor — Absence of the Men — The Fishing 
— Healthy and Industrious Population — The Women of 
Marken — Pretty Girls — They Will not be Taken — A Valu- 
able Experience — Photographs 149 

The Ancient Town of Monnikendam 

Marken Homes — Beds in the Wall — Family Heirlooms — An 
Ancient Clock — Precious Treasures — Quaint Customs — 
Betrothed Couples — The Hotel — Its Interior— A Lack of 
Patrons — Costumes of a By-gone Age — Farewell to Mar- 
ken — Remote Districts — Monnikendam — Ancient Houses 
— Hotel de Posthoorn — The Postman of the Past — A 
Difficult Stairway — We Stroll about the Town — Our Ret- 
inue — In Front of the Hotel — Such Curious Children — 
Supper — We Visit the Shops — Pantomime — A Novel Ex- 
perience — They Cannot Understand — No Candles — We 
Attract a Crowd — The Clothing Store — A Marken Suit — 
" Too High " — Bargaining — A Stranger to the Rescue . . 177 

Old Customs and Quaint Pictures 

Segars and Tobacco — Row Boats — " Gooden Morgen " — The 
Zuyder Zee — By Candle Light — Total Darkness — The 
Town by Night — Women and Girls — Shoes and Stockings 
— The Shuffling Man — Streets and Sidewalks — The Town 
Crier — The Daily News — A Message to the People — 
Draught Dogs — Milkmaids — The Barber Shop — Drug 
Stores — Horretje — A Street Auction — Selling Curios — 
They Leave their Shoes at the Door — An Old Grist Mill — 
The Holland Draught Girl 205 



B Contents 

PAGE 

A Dutch Cheesemaking District 

A Cheesemaking Country — Edam Cheese — A Picturesque Inn 
— An Interesting Interior — A Thrifty Farmer — At Sun- 
rise—In the Cow Stable— The Pretty Maid— Stall and 
Parlor — The Cheese Room — The Process of Making 
Cheese — " I Have Listened and Listened " — A Trip to 
Volendam — A Fine Country Road — A Charming Day — 
Muzzled Dogs— The Only Street— A Multitude of Chil- 
dren — Gay Decorations — A United People — As a Hen 
and Her Brood — Their Wealth is Their Health — In Sun- 
day Dress — Stalwart Men and Sturdy Women — A Higher 
Type — " I Have Enough " — Fishermen — The Anchorage 
— A Volendam Suit 233 

Volendam Sights, and the Oldest Town on the Rhine 

Church is Out — The Promenade — " Every Man is a Volume " 
— An Old Suit — His Sunday Clothes — " Let Him Have 
It " — An Obedient Son — The Silver Buttons — The Last 
Straw — An Uncommon Action — The Hotel — An Artist's 
Resort — -An Unfinished Painting — Good-bye — The An- 
cient City of Cologne — The Cathedral — Within the 
" Dom " — A Wonderful Collection — Foundation of the 
Town — History — Vicissitudes — Public Gardens — Eau de 
Cologne — The Palace of Bruhl 255 

Along the Banks of the Rhine 

Bonn — The Birthplace of Beethoven — The Museum — Monu- 
ment — A Famous Restaurant — College Students — Beer 
Mugs — Special Tables — Affairs of Honor — Konigswinter 
— Magnificent Views — Drachenfels — The Castle — The 
Dombruch — Siegfried and the Dragon — A Desecrated 
Ruin — The Splendor of the Mountains — Many Visitors — 
View from the Summit — The Students' Chorus — German 



Contents 9 

PAGE 

Life — A German Breakfast — The Camera — Old Castles 
and Lofty Mountains — Legends of the Rhine — The Wa- 
ters of the Rhine — Vineyards 283 

From Bingen on the Rhine to Frankfort-on-the-Main 

Vast Vineyards — Bingen — The Hotel — The Down Quilt — A 
German Maid — Taverns — The Mouse Tower — Rudesheim 
— Niederwald — The Rheingau — The National Monument 
— The Castle of Niederburg — Wine Vaults — The River 
— Street Musicians — A Misunderstanding — Frankfort-on- 
the-Main — The Crossing of the Ford — A Free City — Monu- 
ment of Goethe — History — A Convocation of Bishops — 
The City Monument of Gutenberg — The House in which 
Rothschild was Born — Luther 313 

A Prussian Capital and a Fashionable Resort 

We Start for Berlin — Mountain and Valley — Harvesters — 
Villages — A Great City — Unter den Linden — Kroll 
Theatre and Garden — The City Streets — The Branden- 
burg Gate — Potsdam — The Old Palace — Sans Souci — 
Ostend — A Fashionable Watering-Place — The Prome- 
nade — The Kursaal — On the Beach — Bathing Machines 
— Studies for an Artist — The Race-Course — Sunday — 
The Winning Horse — Fickle Dame Fortune — The 
English Channel — A Bureau of Information — Queens- 
town — An Irish Lass — The Last Stop — The End of the 
Journey 333 



List of Illustrations. 



Canal at Monnikendam .... {Frontispiece) 

We feel the heart throbs of old Neptune . 

She proves to be a Barkentine under full sail 

The sailors in the rigging are swaying to and fro 

Amongst these are two typical products of the British Isles 

This is a fine field for the student of human nature 

Wayside Inn, New Brighton 

Typical English houses with their massive thatched roofs 

Suburban residence .... 

White Hall Horse Guards' Barracks . 

A short run of an hour 

The chalky cliffs of Dover 

The largest and handsomest Gothic church in the Nether- 
lands ....... 

The place is intersected everywhere by canals 

In many cases the balconies of residences overhang the 
water 

The belle of the market .... 

The Amstel River 

Wicker chairs offer rest to the weary pedestrian 

The flat landscape is varied by herds of cattle 

Most of the houses have a canal at the back 

The blue stream finds its outlet in the river 

All persuasions accomplislv naught 

One old woman is fascinated with the camera 

We walk along the narrow streets 

Sheep, grazing upon the green pasture lands, form a home 

like scene ^82 " 

Hotel de Posthoorn 187 '- 

De Hooflstraat, Monnikendam 193 ^ 

11 



17 

22 
26 
30 
35 
39 

43 

48 v' 

65V 
74 V 

79 '^ 

106 '^ 
112 i/ 

123 «-^ 

132 >/ 

141 v 

152^;;' 
I56V 

i6iv^ 
165/ 
170 

176^ 



v/ 



12 List of Illustrations 

There is a young man whose walk is all his own . . 200 ■ 

The streets and sidewalks are kept scrupulously clean . 204 
The whole place is a succession of quaint and picturesque 

houses . 208 

A street auction 213 v^ 

At the farthest end of the street stands an old windmill . 217 v 

A beautifully shaded walk just outside the town . . 221 v 

Land and water 228 ^ 

A good road for the bicycle 232 '-^ 

This strange looking highway runs lengthwise through the 

town 241 V 

The houses are roofed with red tiles , . . . . 245 v 

The delicate lace caps frame smiling faces . , . 254 ^ 
As the congregation draws nearer we halt before the fore- 
most group ........ 258"^ 

Every man is a volume if you know how to read him . 263 

Goeden dag. Tot weerziens ...... 267 

Palace of Bruhl 276 ■ 

Lovely walks, and bowery avenues ..... 282 

Not far off stands the statue of the artist .... 287 ' 

The great peak known as the Drachenfels, or Dragon Rock, 293 
How noble and defiant is the appearance of these venerable 

fortresses 302 

Every turn of the river presents a different view . . 306 

Now we behold the little church surrounded by picturesque ■ 

houses 311 "^ 

Approaching Bingen we see vineyards covering the moun- 
tain side 315 ^ 

Thousands of fashionably dressed people appear upon this 

promenade 338 v 

There are many odd and fantastic sights here . . . 342 ^ 

One's portfolio might soon be filled with interesting subjects 346^, 

Many typical Irish characters come aboard our vessel . 350 v 

Several small boats are floating at our side . . . 355/1 

Beyond is all abyss, Eternity, whose end no eye can reach . 359 v 



Scenes of the Present 

and Relics of the Past. 




Scenes of the Present and Relics of the Past* 

Passing Vessels — The Ocean — Sudden Changes — Taking Photo- 
graphs — The Landing Stage at Liverpool — New Brighton — 
In the Country — Liverpool by Night — Salvationists — Old 
Taverns — Chester — An English Home — Relics — The Cathe- 
dral — The River Dee — Leamington — The River Leam — War- 
wick Castle — An Old Mill — Through Kenilworth, Coventry 
and Stoneleigh — " The King's Arms " — Nature's Pictures. 

E sight a steamer on our leeward side. A 
passing vessel is a great excitement on 
an ocean voyage. From the time when 
she first appears, a tiny speck on the 
distant horizon, every one is on deck watching her 
as she slowly climbs into full view, then draws 
nearer and nearer to our floating palace. How 
companionable she seems in the vast waste around 
us. We wonder to which line she belongs; what 
is her name; her speed, and whither she is bound: 
and now that she is within hailing distance, we 
await eagerly the result of the usual interchange of 
questions and answers by means of small flags and 
a certain code of signals, well understood through- 
out the nautical world. The following are some of 

the questions asked: "To what line do you be- 

15 



i6 Odd Bits of Travel 

long?" " What is your port ? " "Have you seen 
any icebergs?" "Met any wrecks?" "Are you 
a tramp ?" and so on, until both sides are satisfied, 
then away she speeds on her course, while the 
passengers and sailors on both ships gaze at one 
another through their glasses until they are lost in 
the distance. The excitement is over, and we all 
return to our former occupations, or stand looking 
idly out to sea until once more there is a cry: ''A 
sail! A sail! " and we begin to hope that she too 
is coming our way. Straining our eyes through the 
powerful field-glasses, we perceive that she is com- 
ing toward us, and will probably cross our line. 
Larger and larger she appears as she steadily ad- 
vances, until she attracts the attention of every one 
on deck. She is now quite close to us, and proves 
to be a Barkentine under full sail. We shout a 
greeting to the crew, and wave our handkerchiefs 
as she passes, and the sailors smile in return and 
take off their caps. 

The ocean air is delightful and invigorating, the 
sky a perfect azure, and the translucent waves with 
their foamy edges stretch away in long beautiful 
curves. We feel the heart throbs of old Neptune, 
as the waters plash softly over the steamer's sides, 
and we speed steadily forward, with the rush and 



Scenes of the Present 19 

swish of the sea sounding in our ears with a wild 
sweet melody all its own. To fall asleep on deck 
amid these charming conditions is delightful indeed. 
But how quickly the scene changes. Suddenly a 
shrill whistle from the Quartermaster summons all 
hands to the deck. Orders are rapidly given in 
quick sharp tones: "Aloft. Take sail in." "Aye, 
aye, sir," is the swift response, in a twinkling the 
sure-footed sailors are up among the yards, perched 
in seemingly impossible places, reefing the flapping 
sails in preparation for the coming storm. Dark 
clouds above are reflected in gloomy waves below, 
and heaving billows surround us, uniting with a 
furious wind that seems bent on the destruction of 
our noble ship. The sailors in the rigging are sway- 
ing to and fro, and the panic-stricken passengers in 
the cabins are telling each other with pale faces that 
belie their words that they are not afraid, for there 
is no danger; yet they listen anxiously for every 
sound from above, and will not allow their dear 
ones to move beyond reach of their hands. There 
is no music now in the rushing of the waves or the 
flapping of the sails. Old Neptune in his angry 
moods is not a desirable companion. But nothing 
lasts forever, and from storm and night and black 
despair the flower of hope arises, for there comes a 



20 Odd Bits of Travel 

lull, followed by a furious blinding onslaught, and 
then the spirit of the hurricane calls his followers 
and flies up, away, somewhere beyond our ken: 
the captain's face relaxes from its tense expression, 
and he looks proudly around his good ship which 
has come out victor in the struggle with the 
elements. One by one, the passengers appear on 
deck, the purple clouds, after a final frown of dis- 
approval at things in general, break into smiles, life 
on shipboard resumes its everyday attitude, and all 
goes "merry as a marriage bell." Life is full of 
contrasts. This is a picture for which neither 
brush nor camera is ready. He who would paint it 
must draw it from its recess in his memory, or from 
some sheltered nook on shore, and be cool and calm 
enough to follow his favorite occupation in spite of 
the consciousness that life and death are struggling 
for mastery in yonder thrilling scene that will make 
him famous if he can but truly portray it upon his 
canvas. 

But there are many tableaux and picturesque 
situations here, very tempting to the traveller who 
carries with him his sketch book or camera, and I 
entertain my companions as well as myself by 
photographing many a little group both comical and 
interesting in the world around us. I invite our 



Scenes of the Present 23 

friends to the lower deck, where I wish to take 
pictures of some of the steerage passengers. 
Amongst these are two typical products of the 
British Isles — one a robust Irishman of shillalah 
fame, and the other a bonny boy from Scotland. I 
make known to them my desire to have their photo- 
graphs, whereupon the quick witted Irishman, 
without doubt knowing the quality of his face, 
which is one of the ugliest I have ever seen, begins 
at once to bargain with me for the privilege of 
transferring it to my camera. It is true I could have 
stolen a march on him by a snap shot, and he been 
all unconscious of the act, but wishing to keep up 
the comedy I asked at what price he values his face. 
He replies that if I will take up a collection from the 
passengers around us, he will accept that as full 
pay. My friends of the cabin enter into the spirit 
of the play, and quite a goodly sum finds its way 
into the horny hand of the Hibernian athlete, who 
now, with a broad smile of satisfaction, intimates 
that he is ready to be "taken." 

These pictures too join the gallery of our yester- 
days. Swift has truly said: "It is the talent of 
human nature to run from one extreme to another." 
The long voyage is over, and all hearts rejoice in the 
sight of land, and now we are upon the landing 



24 Odd Bits of Travel 

stage at Liverpool, amidst the throng of excited 
passengers, ail moving hither and thither in search 
of baggage which seems hopelessly lost in the con- 
fusion of trunks, porters, policemen, drays and 
ubiquitous small boys. This is a fine field for the 
student of human nature. Here are groups of inex- 
perienced travellers looking anxiously about them, 
wondering how it is possible to extricate their be- 
longings from the' indistinguishable mass before 
them, and laboring under the dread that when found, 
a fierce and merciless custom-house official will 
seize upon trunks and boxes, and deaf to all pro- 
testations, dump the contents, from a shoe to a 
hat, upon the floor, to the everlasting confusion 
of the owners and the amusement of the specta- 
tors. The cool indifference of those who have 
crossed the ocean many times is in marked con- 
trast to these panic-stricken, and really pitiable 
creatures. 

Then there is the "happy-go-lucky" youth, who 
finds all this tumult a great joke, and who wanders 
carelessly about, with the serene confidence that 
"things" will turn out all right ; which they gener- 
ally do. Here is the fashionable mother with her 
pretty daughters who evince a charming delight in 
everything that happens ; the fussy mama who is 



Scenes of the Present 27 

sure that her baggage has not come ashore, or that 
the officers of the custom-house are in league 
against her; children separated from parents or 
nurses, shrieking wildly in their terror, while others, 
more venturesome and curious, are in every one's 
way. Porters elbow their way through the crowd, 
cabmen shout in stentorian tones, policemen watch 
the masses, and now and then in sharp curt tones 
call a delinquent to order. A placid looking old 
gentleman with silvery hair and dignified demeanor 
stands in the midst of a picturesque party of young 
people, evidently his grandchildren. They all look 
so happy that it seems contagious, for the troubled 
countenances of their neighbors break into sympa- 
thetic smiles as they glance at this joyous family 
group. Every shade of human expression may be 
observed in this motley throng, and he who has 
eyes to see will find many a charming tableau, many 
a pathetic scene or diverting situation that would 
enrich a sketch book, or prove a valuable addition 
to the collection made by the ready camera. The 
various changes of expression are worth studying, 
for where "luxuriant joy and pleasure in excess" 
appear at one moment, the next may behold an 
angry frown, and a struggle as if for life amid the 
surging tide of humanity. 



28 Odd Bits of Travel 

" Now one's the better — then the other best 
Both tugging to be victor, breast to breast 
Yet neither conqueror, or is conquered." 

Taking a small steamer which plies between 
Liverpool and New Brighton, one may for a few 
cents, after a half hour's ride, land at an attractive 
and much frequented watering-place upon the bank 
of the Mersey River, opposite Liverpool. This re- 
sort is the pleasure-ground of the middle classes, 
and is well worth a visit. Upon a holiday many 
thousands flock to its shores which remind one of 
Vanity Fair, where numerous phases and conditions 
of life are represented. Here is the indefatigable 
and annoying travelling photographer with his 
"Four for a shilling. Take you in two minutes. 
Ladies and gentlemen, step in and see the finest 
pictures to be found in this country. Bridal groups 
a specialty." 

Here are games of all kinds, pony and donkey 
riding, and all the shows to be found at the 
popular seashore resort. The "merry-go-round" 
is in full swing, with a crowd of spectators, 
among them many wistful children, watching the 
prancing camels and gaily caparisoned horses. The 
music here is quite inspiring, and the numerous 
small boys and maidens who lack the necessary 



Scenes of the Present 31 

pennies for this ravishing entertainment gaze at 
their more fortunate companions with woe-begone 
countenances. Strains less animated, but more 
melodious attract us to a fine dancing hall, where 
the older lads and lasses are tripping about in a 
lively manner. The light dresses, colored ribbons 
and happy faces make a pretty picture. Along the 
beach are beautiful views, worthy of a master hand, 
while out in the country the typical English houses 
with their massive thatched roofs and lovely sur- 
roundings of trees, lawns and gardens fair, cannot 
fail to captivate the artist's eyes. 

A stroll through the streets and byways of Liver- 
pool at night is a sad but interesting experience. 
Alas for the misery and crime and want that exist 
in all the great cities! Girls, young and pretty, but 
no longer innocent, may be seen in scores in every 
locality: children with poverty and depravity writ- 
ten on their faces boldly address one at the street 
corners: men and women, with sharp, pinched fea- 
tures and misery and despair in their voices, be- 
seech one for alms, or with fierce cunning lie in 
wait for the unwary. Sick at heart and with inex- 
pressible pity we wend our way from one point to 
another. Vice, crime, want, suffering meet our 
eyes on every side: and the old hopeless cry: Why 



32 Odd Bits of Travel 

must these things be ? rises up again in our souls. 
Through the whole night long upon the curb stones, 
at the corners, lounging against the windows and 
doors of closed houses or shops, this lower 
stratum of life appears with its atmosphere of 
dusky gloom. When the daylight dawns upon the 
city, it seems to shrivel up and shrink into the 
mouths of the yawning black cellars and foul alleys 
whose very breath is a deadly poison. There are 
dozens of taverns scattered about the city, and 
within these rooms or stalls are partitioned off 
where sin may be screened from public view, for 
even those dyed deepest in crime sometimes fall so 
low that they dare not carry on their nefarious 
operations in the face of their everyday compan- 
ions. These dens are countenanced by the authori- 
ties, and one may find within them criminals of 
every grade who prey upon each other for their 
sustenance: but in the long run, it is the proprietor 
who comes out with a substantial bank account. 

Beggars, peddlers, musicians, singers of both 
sexes, and itinerant vendors of all kinds jostle each 
other in these haunts of sin, and great caution 
should be exercised in visiting them, for in certain 
localities, crimes of the most brutal character are of 
daily, I might say hourly occurrence. I would sug- 



Scenes of the Present 33 

gest that the tourist should at such times depend 
for safety upon the company of a first-cIass detec- 
tive. 

Let praise be given where it is due. The Salva- 
tionists of Europe have by their indefatigable labors 
reclaimed thousands of these men and women from 
their lives of sin and misery. You will meet these 
untiring workers everywhere, exhorting, praying, 
pleading with fallen humanity. These noble bands 
of Christians enter fearlessly the most loathsome 
hovels, and, wrestling with filth and disease, in 
many cases come off victorious. They have been 
known to wash the clothing and cleanse the houses of 
fever-stricken families, and supply wholesome food 
and care for helpless infants, defied at every step 
by a drunken son or father. They fear nothing, 
knowing that their cause is God's cause, and that in 
the end Almighty Goodness shall win an eternal 
conquest. 

It is customary throughout England to close all 
the saloons on Sundays until noon, after which 
time they open their doors, and remain open till 
midnight as upon week-days. 

Of the many cities whose haunts I have visited at 
night, I think that without exception, unless it be 
London, Liverpool leads in depravity and vice. 



34 Odd Bits of Travel 

The country from Liverpool to Chester abounds 
in attractive scenery, local in character and possess- 
ing the additional charm of novelty for the Ameri- 
can tourist. Along the route are scattered a num- 
ber of old taverns, such as "The Horn," "The 
Green Tree," and similar names. Dismounting 
from bicycle or trap, the traveller who enters one 
of these ancient landmarks will find everything in 
"apple pie order": the floor clean and shining Uke 
a bright new dollar just launched from the mint. 
He will sit at a table within one of the three stalls 
on either side of the little room, and the landlord's 
wife will bring him a bumper of "good auld Al," 
the effect of which will prove lasting and beneficial, 
if it corresponds with my experience. 

Chester, oldest of English cities, is full of quaint 
residences and other ancient buildings. The old 
wall which surrounds the town is the only one in 
Great Britain which has been preserved entire. It 
forms a continuous ring, although in some places 
the earth has climbed so far above its base, that it 
appears no higher than a terrace. Its rugged outer 
parapet is still complete, and the wide flagging 
forms a delightful promenade, with a fine view of 
the surrounding country. The earliest date which 
we find upon the wall is a. d. 6i, when it was 



Scenes of the Present 37 

erected by the Romans. Twelve years later, Marius, 
king of the Britons, extended the wall. The Britons 
were defeated under it in 607, and after a lapse of 
three centuries, it was rebuilt by the daughter of 
Alfred the Great. It has a long and eventful history, 
and the old Cathedral whose edge it skirts, is one of 
the largest and most ancient in England. The 
sculptures in this magnificent edifice are worn 
smooth by the hand of time. The stained glass 
windows are marvels of art, the groined arches, 
dreamy cloisters, and antique carving upon seats 
and pews fill one with admiration mingled with 
awe. There are many fine mosaics here, and speci- 
mens of wood from the Holy Land. Costly gems 
adorn the choir; here too is a Bible whose cover is 
inlaid with preciou-s stones. The massive Gothic 
pillars are still in a perfect state of preservation, as 
well as the numerous ancient monuments and relics 
of the past. The vast size of the Cathedral is a per- 
petual source of wonder to the stranger, who, 
wandering among its curious historic mementos, 
gazing upon its storied nave, transepts and choir, 
and upon the Bible scenes pictured in these glorious 
windows, feels that he has been transported by 
some magician's hand into an age long buried in the 
past. The Cathedral is said to have been founded in 



38 * Odd Bits of Travel 

the year 200. Its height within, from floor to the 
lofty dome lighted by these exquisite windows is 
from sixty to one hundred feet. The Church of St. 
John the Baptist rivals the Cathedral in antiquity, 
but it is now a picturesque ruin covered with moss 
and ivy. 

Chester itself contains many antiquities that are to 
be found nowhere else in the world. The houses, 
dating back to 1 500, or even earlier, are of every de- 
gree of shade and color, with little windows with 
diamond-shaped panes, and gable ends facing the 
streets whose sidewalks are on a level with the sec- 
ond stories. Everything here seems to belong to 
the past, excepting the fine, modern station, ten 
hundred and fifty feet long, with its projecting iron 
roofed wings for the protection of vehicles waiting 
for passengers from the trains. This station is one 
of the longest in England. The famous Chester 
Rows are public passages running through the sec- 
ond stories of the houses facing the four principal 
streets. These arcades are reached by flights of 
steps at the corners of the streets, and contain some 
very attractive shops. The old timber-built houses 
of Chester with their curious inscriptions are all 
preserved in their original ancient style, and no- 
where in England can the artist or photographer find 



Scenes of the Present 4^ 

a more interesting spot, or one richer in ancient 
and mediseval relics than this little town. 

The quaint old taverns carry one back, back, to 
the life of the past. Drop in at the Bear & Billet 
Inn some day, or The Falcon Inn, and yield yourself 
up to the charming mediaeval atmosphere of the 
place. Seat yourself at the little table beside the 
window, and look out upon the same scene which 
your English ancestors looked upon more than two 
hundred years ago. The landlord's wife will bring 
you a foaming tankard of ale. It is the same tankard 
from which your forefathers quenched their thirst, 
and if you are of a contented, philosophical temper- 
ament, you will experience the same comfort and 
enjoyment as they, in this truly English beverage. 
If you are not fired with enthusiasm by this old-time 
picture, wend your way to the banks of the River 
Dee, where you may paint the greens in every va- 
riety of light and shade, with one of the picturesque 
old farmhouses which abound here in the fore- 
ground, and some " blooded " cattle resting quietly 
beneath the wide-spreading branches of the trees. 
Or here is the single wide arch of Grosvenor Bridge 
crossing the river, with a span of two hundred feet. 
This is one of the largest stone arches in Europe. 
'Or here is a bit of the old wall skirting the water, 



42 Odd Bits of Travel 

and the charming picture of the Old Bridge, which 
dates back to the thirteenth century ; and here too 
are the vast mills of the Dee, associated with the 
history and traditions of eight hundred years. With 
its surrounding country, and the succession of lovely 
gardens bordering the Dee, surely Chester is one of 
the choice spots in England for the lover of the 
quaint and beautiful. Within the pretty residences 
of the suburbs may be found all the comforts and 
recreations of a happy prosperous family life, united 
with genuine English hospitality, and a cordial wel- 
come for the stranger. The owner of one of these 
charming homes orders up his cart, and insists upon 
taking us for a drive through this delightful locality, 
and for miles and miles our hearts and eyes are cap- 
tivated by lovely landscapes and enchanting bits of 
scenery. We wind up with a cup of good hot tea, 
thinly cut buttered bread, and other dainties. 

A decided change from the ancient and mediaeval 
associations of Chester is the prosperous city of 
Leamington, a watering-place situated on the Learn 
River, a tributary of the Avon. The natural min- 
eral springs discovered here in 1797 have proved the 
source of great benefit to this town, as the springs 
are highly recommended by physicians, and many 
invalids resort thither. But as health is not our ob- 




Typical English houses with their massive thatched roofs." [See /a^^e ji.) 



Scenes of the Present 45 

ject in coming, we do not follow the popular custom, 
but proceeding to the banks of the River Leam, en- 
gage one of the many small boats which may be 
hired, and drift leisurely down the stream with the 
current, revelling in the wealth of beauty which 
surrounds us. Hundreds of lovely nooks disclose 
themselves to our eager eyes — typical English scenes 
— and as we float along life assumes an ideal aspect 
under the witchery of this picturesque river. Here 
are old farmhouses in the foreground, with their 
richly cultivated fields stretching away for hundreds 
of acres, and here are velvet lawns, with their dainty 
high-bred air, surrounding noble homes, stately and 
silent. Now a group of merry children dance about 
the water side, and a great Newfoundland dog 
dashes wildly into the stream after a ball or stick, 
swimming gallantly out until he seizes his prize. 
How the children scream and run away as he rushes 
joyously up to them, shaking the spray over their 
dresses and into their faces. Oh fair River Leam! 
these lofty elms and giant oaks that look down upon 
your waters love you, and we too, strangers from 
a foreign shore, here yield our tribute of loving 
praise for the happy hours we owe to you, linger- 
ing often, reluctant to leave some especially charm- 
ing spot where the branches of the trees overhang 



46 Odd Bits of Travel 

the stream, and touch our faces with soft caressing 
fingers. 

" Nature was here so lavish of her store, 
That she bestowed until she had no more." 

This scene too fades as we board one of the many 
tram-cars, and in a few moments are carried to the 
very gateway of the world-renowned Warwick 
Castle, which occupies a commanding position, 
overlooking the Avon. This ancient pile is artistic- 
ally poised, and presents grand effects of color, 
light and shade. Upon the payment of a shilling 
for each person, the massive iron doors which for 
centuries have guarded this stately and historic 
stronghold, open as if by magic, and a passageway 
cut through the solid rock leads us to an open space, 
where we have a fine view of the magnificent round 
towers and embattled walls. A visit of two hours 
gives us opportunity to climb to the top of the an- 
cient towers which for ages have loomed up as 
monuments of power and defiance in the face of the 
enemy. We are impressed with the vast size of 
the castle. The view from the towers and the 
windows is beautiful and romantic. In the spacious 
courtyard there are magnificent old trees and soft 
velvety turf, and the hand of time has colored 
towers and battlements a rich brown hue that 



Scenes of the Present 49 

blends harmoniously with the ivy creeping in and 
out wherever it can find a place. 

The gardens slope down to the Avon, from 
whose banks there is a picturesque view of the 
river front of the castle, and here as well as in 
the park we see some fine old cedars of Leb- 
anon, brought from the East by the Warwick 
Crusaders. In the main castle we enter a num- 
ber of the apartments which are furnished in a style 
of regal splendor. The Great Entrance Hall, sixty 
two feet long and forty wide, is rich in dark old 
oak wainscoting, and curious ancient armor; and 
shields and coronets of the earls of many generations, 
as well as the " Bear and Ragged Staff," of Robert 
Dudley's crest are carved upon its Gothic ceiling. 
The Gilt Drawing-room contains a rare collection of 
the masterpieces of great artists. This room is so 
called from the richly gilded panels which cover its 
walls and ceiling. In the Cedar Drawing-room are 
wonderful antique vases, furniture and other curios, 
which would well repay a much longer inspection 
than we can give them. But all the rooms in this 
magnificent old feudal castle are filled with the fin- 
est specimens of works of ancient art in every line. 
The paintings alone fill us with despair, for they 
line the walls in close succession, and the artists' 



50 Odd Bits of Travel 

names are Murillo, Rubens, Rembrandt, Vandyke, 
Sir Peter Lely, Guido, Andrea del Sarto, and many 
others of like celebrity. What an opportunity for 
those who have the time to linger in this atmos- 
phere of lofty genius ! 

Many beautiful old shade trees surround the 
castle, and the restful silence inspires one with the 
desire to be alone and yield himself up to the spirit 
of the place, hallowed by such wealth of associa- 
tions and the presence of immortal art. 

A short distance from the castle, and outside the 
Warwick enclosure, stands an old mill upon the 
bank of the Avon. This ancient and picturesque 
structure was originally built for the purpose of 
grinding wheat, but the all-observing eye of the 
artist quickly discovered in it a mission of a higher 
order, and for years it has posed as the central figure 
in the romantic landscapes portrayed by the brush 
of the painter or the camera of the photographer. 

Taking a drag and driving through Kenilworth, 
Coventry and Stoneleigh, will give one delightful 
views of some of the most beautiful portions of 
England. The roads are macadamized, and in good 
condition. This is a fine farming country, and here 
we see the typical English farmhouses, built of 
brick and stone, surrounded by well-cultivated fields. 



Scenes of the Present 5^ 

stretching away into a peacefully smiling landscape. 
The fields are separated by green hedges, and the 
whole scene is one that can hardly be surpassed 
throughout " Merrie England," 

From these lovely quiet homes, we pass through 
roads bordered with wild flowers to the ruins of 
one of the most magnificent castles in Great Britain. 
It is hardly necessary to say that Kenilworth is in- 
separably associated with Sir Walter Scott, and his 
graphic descriptions of the scenes and events that 
have taken place here in the days of its glory. This 
castle, one of the finest and most extensive baronial 
ruins in England, dates back to about 1120 a. d. It 
covered an area of seven acres, but is now a mass 
of ivy-covered ruins, from which one can form but 
a faint idea of its appearance in the height of its 
prosperity. Yet the hand of nature has invested it 
with another kind of beauty, and in place of the 
pomp and majesty of power, the brilliant pageants 
of the court of Queen Elizabeth, we behold the 
clinging robe of ivy, the daylight illuminating the 
gallery tower in place of the hundreds of wax 
torches which flashed their lights upon the royal cav- 
alcade, and a little country road where once a stately 
avenue led to the tower, and listened to the court 
secrets, lovers' vows and merry badinage uttered 



52 Odd Bits of Travel 

within its shades. The castle has passed through 
many changes, and experienced stormy days as 
well as those of prosperity and luxury, but the pen 
of Scott has immortalized it on the summit of its 
glory, and though the ages may cast their blight 
upon its visible form, it will ever live in the soul of 
the artist, the poet, the lover of beauty, as a scene 
of splendor, of sorrowful tragedy, of magnificent 
design. 

But a few steps beyond the Kenil worth grounds 
is an old English inn — The King's Arms. It is so 
picturesque and romantic-looking, that I feel like re- 
christening it: "The Entire Royal Family." 

Let us enter its hospitable doors and enjoy its old- 
time atmosphere and many curious attractions. 
Here the artist is in his element, for on every side 
are quaint corners, cozy nooks, and relics for which 
the lover of the antique would give a fortune; 
while outside the windows the beautiful English 
landscape beams upon one with inviting smiles. 
The landlady, with her cheerful bustling air and 
broad accent, imparts a pleasant thrill of anticipa- 
tion, which is more than realized upon the appear- 
ance of the savory chops, — grown on the neigh- 
boring hillside, whose rich green pasturage is a 
guarantee for the flavor and quality of the meat, — 



Scenes of the Present 53 

the delicious hot cakes, and the unfailing tankard, 
or if one prefers it, the cup of fragrant tea. And so 
we sit and refresh the inner man, while the soul 
revels in the world of beauty around us, and picture 
after picture passes before the mental vision, con- 
necting these scenes with famous historic charac- 
ters, or wonderful events of legendary lore. So 
lovely are these views, that one could gaze for 
hours, and never weary of the "living jewels 
dropp'd unstained from heaven," for this pictur- 
esque country possesses a peculiar freshness, as 
though free from the touch of care and the hand of 
time, like the fair maiden who has received from the 
fountain of youth the gift of eternal life and beauty. 



Lights and Shadows 



of London Life. 



Lights and Shadows of London Life* 

The Shadow Side — The Slums — The City by Night — Vice and 
Misery — " Chinese Johnson's " Opium Den — The " Bunco " 
Man — An English Guard — " The Grand Old Man " — Caution 
to Tourists — Great Cities by Night — The Seven Dials — Derby 
Day — The Tally-Ho — Old Robin Hood Inn — Epsom Hill — 
The Races — Exciting Scenes — Side Shows — The Close of the 
Day. 




S nature derives much of its charm from the 
intermingling of light and shade, so in 
life there are many scenes of sharp con- 
trast, and we often have a deeper appre- 
ciation of its beauties after beholding the reverse 
side of the picture. Some one has said: "In ac- 
tions of life, who seeth not the filthiness of evil, 
wanteth a great foil to perceive the beauty of 
virtue." 

What better opportunity of studying this phase 
of life can there be, than in the faces of those whose 
existence is passed amid associations of suffering, 
want and crime; who not only witness, but exper- 
ience all these in their different shades and degrees. 
Take with me a walk through the worst portions 
of the greatest metropolis in the world, and observe 

57 



58 Odd Bits of Travel 

a few of the pictures in the localities where human- 
ity is born and nourished in misery, filth and sin. 
Guarded by three of England's best paid detectives, 
I follow closely in their footsteps, not daring to 
speak lest I rouse in his lair the slumbering lion of 
passion and revenge. From street to street we 
pass, viewing the wretched temements, and more 
wretched inmates huddling together over a faint 
spark of fire, or vainly trying to impart to their 
little ones some of the natural warmth which still 
exists in their bodies, in spite of hunger, cold and 
fatigue. The crumbs from the tables of the rich 

^ would be a lavish feast to these poor creatures. 
Clean water is as great a stranger to their stomachs 
as to their bodies ; loathsome rags cover their ema- 
ciated forms, and the destroyer drink has left his 
signet upon their countenances. A little farther on 
is the vile dance house into which the inhabitants 
of this neighborhood crawl for the lowest stage of 
their degradation. A motley throng is assembled 
here, and the sound of a violin mingles with shrill 
laughter and drunken oaths. 
I am guarded so carefully that many times I am 

5s hurried away from a scene more quickly than I 
wish, the officers fearing that our presence may 
create a disturbance among these reckless charac- 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 59 

ters. We enter a low saloon in a cellar dimly 
lighted by an old oil lamp: the atmosphere is grue- 
some, and one of the detectives warns me that the 
men who frequent this haunt are desperate fellows 
who would not hesitate to stab me for the sake of 
my clothing. Old and grizzled habitues line reek- 
ing walls, with depravity written upon every coun- 
tenance, and I fully realize that my life would not 
be worth a moment's purchase here should my at- 
tendants forsake me. 

Now we are in a long narrow alley, as black as 
Erebus, which gives one the feeling of being in a 
subterranean passage upon some mysterious mis- 
sion. In a few minutes a light appears ahead — a 
dull glimmering bluish light, like that which is 
supposed to hover above graveyards — and we 
pause in front of a small frame house of two 
stories. A knock upon the door brings to the 
threshold a little dried up, wizened Chinaman, made 
feeble by long dissipation, who in his broken lan- 
guage makes us welcome. The place is "Chinese 
Johnson's" opium den. How can I describe the 
scene that is before me ? In this room are many 
small dirty cots filled with unconscious human be- 
ings, willing victims of the pernicious drug — a 
loathsome spectacle — and here on a small couch 



6o Odd Bits of Travel 

sits the proprietor of tlie establishment. This is 
his throne of state, and here he can smoke with 
impunity the deadly drug, which has no percepti- 
ble effect upon his depraved body. We are glad to 
end this experience and banish from our minds the 
unattractive picture of the Chinaman in his elysian 
fields. 

We are not the only ones who have the privilege 
of viewing these scenes. Any one who desires and 
possesses the necessary courage may invade the 
haunts and dens of the lower world, and be prof- 
ited by the lessons here learned; but he must exer- 
cise great caution. The studies are not only for 
the brush and camera: they are food for the 
thoughtful mind which can apply the wisdom thus 
gained, and seek in these conditions for the solu- 
tion of knotty problems. One can better appreci- 
ate, by reason of this contrast, the blessings of his 
own life; of purity, honesty and contentment as 
opposed to ignorance, poverty and vice. 

This evening, fatigued in mind and body by my 
experience in the slums of London, I enter the Hol- 
born Restaurant, hoping to enjoy a good dinner, 
and at the same time be entertained by the delight- 
ful music of skilled musicians. I seat myself at a 
table on the second floor, and supposing myself 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 6i 

free from intrusion, yield myself up to the charming 
melody, when a good-looking and well-dressed 
man approaches, and with many apologies asks if 
the seat opposite me is engaged. I assure him that 
I do not lay claim to ownership of any portion of 
the Holborn, and that I can speak only of the chair 
upon which I am sitting. Upon this he takes the 
opposite place and gives to the waiter an order for 
quite an extravagant supply of the dainties enumer- 
ated on the bill of fare. During the time interven- 
ing between the giving of the order and its delivery, 
no conversation passes between us, but I have an 
unpleasant consciousness of his presence, and occa- 
sionally feel his eyes resting upon me. The appear- 
ance of the epicurean repast seems to impart the 
confidence he requires, and he addresses me with 
the remark that I must pardon him for staring at me 
so impolitely, but he is sure he has met me before. 
Am I not an American.? to which I assent. "Are 
you a New Yorker ? " is the next interrogation from 
this experienced catechiser. He can readily per- 
ceive that I am an American by my foreign accent. 

To the last question I also respond in the affirma- 
tive, and may heaven forgive the falsehood. "Ah," 
he says, "do you frequent the races at Sheepshead 
Bay.?" "Yes, generally," I reply. (I have never 



62 Odd Bits of Travel 

seen the place.) "It is there, then, that I have met 
you. Were you not there last summer ? " "Many 
times." (Another breach of truth.) "Will you 
kindly give me your name ?" follows as a matter of 
course. I reach my hand into my pocket and draw 
out a card upon which is engraved simply my name, 
and extending it toward him, remark: "My name 
is Charles M. Taylor, Jr., and I am associated with 

Mr. , one of the chief detectives at Scotland 

Yard. My present mission is to look up some 
'Bunco' men from New York who have head- 
quarters in London. Here is my card." But the 
stranger does not take the card. He glances hastily 
at his watch, and rising hurriedly, says: "It is nine 
o'clock. I did not know it was so late. I must be 
off, as I have an important engagement." 

As he pushes back his chair, I quickly call a 
waiter, and tell him to collect the money for this 
gentleman's order, as I do not wish to be held re- 
sponsible for it. He pays for the meal which he 
has not touched, and in his haste to depart forgets 
his manners, for he does not wish me "good-night." 

Did he think I was a tender lamb ? This hurts 
my pride somewhat. I am sorry, however, that I 
was obliged to deceive him so. 

One evening while discussing matters in general 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 63 

with an English friend, born and bred in the city of 
London, we touch upon tiie order and unswerving 
obedience of the soldiers, policemen and good citi- 
zens who dwell under the dominion of her gracious 
Majesty, the Queen, in the great metropolis; and 
my friend cites as an example, the guards who 
patrol nightly the White Hall Horse Guards Bar- 
racks, as adhering so strictly to their line of march 
that they will not turn out of their way one inch for 
any person or obstacle in their direct course. I ac- 
cept the wager of a dinner at the Holborn to be 
given by me if I do not succeed in inducing one of 
these guards to move out of his line of march. 
Selecting a dark night for the one in which to make 
good my assertion, I approach the barracks, and 
espy the guard with bayonet at "Carry arms,"' 
making a "bee line" toward me. I walk in his 
direction with head bent low, and come so close 
that there would be a collision were it not for the 
stern and firmly-uttered "Halt" that comes from 
his lips. I halt face to face with this noble specimen 
of humanity, standing fully six feet one in his boots, 
and as straight as "Jack's bean pole." "Sir," I 
say, "you are in my way, will you please move 
out?" He makes no response. " Will you please 
step aside and allow me to pass?" No response. 



64 Odd Bits of Travel 

"Come, my good fellow," I continue in persuasive 
tones, "I have made a wager that you will move 
out of line for me, and if you do I will share the bet 
with you." No reply. But I see in the immovable 
countenance an inflexible determination to do his 
duty which all the bribes in Christendom will not 
be able to change. I feel that death only can pre- 
vent his obedience to orders. "Well," I conclude, 
"you are a good fellow, and the power you serve, 
be it queen, emperor, or president, is to be envied 
for having such a faithful subject. I respect your 
obedience to law and order. Good-night." No 
response. It is needless to say that I pay the forfeit 
willingly, and my friend and I enjoy a good dinner 
at the Holborn. 

Strolling one morning about London, with nothing 
better to do than to take in " odd bits" that come 
in my way, I observe a large crowd of citizens as- 
sembled opposite the entrance to Parliament, and 
going up to a policeman, I ask what has happened, 
or is about to happen ? But the officer looks perfectly 
blank, and can give me no information whatever. I 
bethink suddenly of my remissness and the rules 
governing information sought from guards, cab- 
drivers, and omnibus whips in the city of London, 
and straightway putting my hand in my pocket, I 




White Hall Horse CuiarcU' Barracks." {■^ee page 6j.) 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 67 

produce several pennies which I give him for a mug 
of "Half and Half." A change comes over his 
countenance, his vanished senses quickly return, 
and with a courteous smile he remarks that Glad- 
stone is expected to appear in Parliament for the 
first time after an illness of some weeks. And this 
obliging "cop" not only gives me the desired in- 
formation, but escorts me to a good position in the 
crowd, just in time to behold the "Grand Old 
Man," who, holding his hat in his hand, bows smil- 
ingly in response to the enthusiastic greetings which 
come from every side. He walks briskly along, and 
as he comes close to me, moved by an irresistible 
impulse, I step out from the throng, and extend my 
hand, saying: "lam an American, who wishes to 
shake the hand of the man who has so bravely 
fought a hard battle." The proud old face looks 
pleasantly into mine, his hand meets mine with a 
cordial grasp, and replying that he is glad to meet 
an American, Gladstone passes on to the scene of 
his many conflicts and victories. 

The tourist who is bent on seeing the various 
sections of a great city, and especially those localities 
which are best observed by night, should be very 
cautious in visiting the haunts of vice and poverty: 
such for example as the old Seven Dials of London, 



68 Odd Bits of Travel 

as it used to be. I have had many unpleasant and 
untold encounters, and been placed in situations, 
not only trying, but extremely dangerous, while at- 
tempting to explore these hidden regions unattended 
and alone. Experience has taught me that it is best 
to go "well heeled," that is accompanied by the 
best informed and most expert detectives, as what 
they may charge for their services is cheap in com- 
parision with a mutilated head or body. One's own 
ready wit and shrewdness are all very well in some 
cases, but there are times when these fail, and the 
man at the other end, drunken, brutal, and excited, 
will make you wish you had " let sleeping dogs lie." 

It is well for travellers and others to visit the slums 
of large cities by night. Here is food for comparison 
and reflection, and from these may perhaps arise a 
different feeling from that with which we are ac- 
customed to regard the poor wretches who have 
lacked the advantages of birth, education and en- 
vironment. 

In company with four detectives, I visited the 
"Seven Dials" of London, and the experience of 
those nights spent in scenes of horror, vice and 
degradation would fill volumes. Picture to yourself 
a small narrow street, with lov/ wooden houses of 
two stories on either side. There are dim glim- 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 69 

mering lights at intervals of about fifty feet. The 
hour is two o'clock in the morning, as one tourist 
attended b)' four officers wends his way through an 
atmosphere filled with dread and horror. We enter 
some of the houses which present scenes of inde- 
scribable squalor and confusion. A perfect bedlam 
of tongues reigns here. Men and women hurl 
abusive epithets at each other, from windows and 
doors, as well as from one end of the street to the 
other. The entire neighborhood enters into the 
quarrel, and the transition from words to blows is 
sudden and fierce. The street is filled in an instant 
with ragged, and almost naked beings, whom one 
can hardly call human, and the battle which ensues 
with clubs, knives and fists is beyond imagination. 
Cut heads, broken limbs, bruised bodies, bleeding 
countenances appear on every side, and it is quite 
evident that many are scarred for life. The sight is 
loathsome, yet it makes one's heart ache. Such 
scenes are of frequent occurrence in the slums of 
nearly every large city, where drink and depravity 
count their victims by thousands. In these vile 
abodes are the haunts of the thief, the smuggler, the 
fallen, and the pictures once seen, are indelibly im- 
pressed on the memory, with the long train of re- 
flections awakened by such sights, and the inevitable 



70 Odd Bits of Travel 

query: Why is not sometliing done to render such 
scenes impossible in this age of civilization ? 

At last the great Derby Day has arrived, and the 
whole atmosphere is filled with the importance of 
the occasion. The sprinkling rain does not dampen 
the ardor and enthusiasm of the true Englishman, 
for I am told that the races have never been post- 
poned on account of the weather. After breakfast 
we stroll to the street corner where stands our 
tally-ho in readiness for the day's excursion. Hav- 
ing engaged our seats the previous day, we take our 
places and start forth, drawn by four spirited horses 
under the guidance of an experienced driver. The 
whip is cracked, the horn sends forth its musical 
signal, and away we go amid the cheers and ap- 
plause of numerous spectators. Swiftly we roll 
over the well paved streets, and the high spirits of 
the company, accompanied by the frequent wind- 
ing of the horn, render the ride extremely pleasant. 
The race-course is about eighteen miles out of 
London, and our road is through a beautiful portion 
of the country. Every lane and avenue is thronged 
with people, walking, driving, or on bicycles, but 
all going to the Derby. We stop for refreshment 
at the old Robin Hood Inn, an ancient hostelry, es- 
tablished, we are told, in 1409. Here we have a 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 7I 

beverage, supposed to be soda water or milk, but 
which is in truth a stronger concoction, to brace us 
for the mental and physical strain of this exciting 
day. "All aboard," cries the coachman, and there 
is a general scramble for places. At last we are all 
seated, and proceed on our way, changing horses 
when half the distance is covered. 

We take the main thoroughfare within three miles 
of the Epsom grounds, and now a wonderful sight 
bursts upon us. Thousands of pedestrians of both 
sexes and every age are flocking toward the race 
course : hundreds of carriages, vans, dog carts, tally- 
hos, vehicles of every description throng the road. 
Enormous trains are constantly arriving, bearing 
their thousands to the Downs, now covered with a 
vast moving mass. London empties itself on this 
all-important day, and proceeds to Epsom by every 
possible means of locomotion. The grand stand, a 
handsome and commodious structure, is quickly 
filled to overflowing. There are numerous other 
stands. The appearance of the Downs, with the 
countless booths and the waving multitude which 
cover it as far as the eye can reach, is a spectacle that 
cannot fail to thrill the soul of the most phlegmatic. 
No other event in England can concentrate such an 
amount of interest and excitement as is found on 



72 Odd Bits of Travel 

the scene of the Derby. Every one is in high spirits : 
young and old, men, women and children all seem 
merry and happy, laughing, singing, dancing along 
on this one great day of the year. Behold the party 
on our right. A large wagon contains ten or more 
men and women, who are singing and laughing 
in great glee, and who invite us to join them. Here 
a group of a half dozen men with musical instru- 
ments at their sides are singing to their own accom- 
paniment. The dust rises in clouds, and we are 
covered from head to foot with it as with a garment: 
we all wear veils pinned around our heads to pro- 
tect our eyes. 

At last we reach Epsom Hill, and here we 
pay two guineas for the admission of our party 
and conveyance. We are also entitled to a place 
anywhere on the hill which overlooks the race- 
course. Our horses are picketed after being taken 
from the wagon, and our two attendants spread be- 
fore us a most sumptuous repast. Coaches of every 
kind are so thickly jumbled together that for a vast 
distance the hill seems covered with a coat of dark 
paint. 

Thousands and thousands of men, women and 
children are assembled upon this hillside, while 
tens of thousands fill the stands and encircle the 




" A short run of an hour." i^See page 8j.) 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 75 

race-course. It is estimated that no less than from 
one hundred thousand to one hundred and fifty 
thousand persons are massed together at these races. 

The race-course is not like those in the United 
States, but is a sodded strip extending about half 
a mile in a straight line. The ringing of a bell an- 
nounces the commencement of the races, and the 
mass of humanity surges to and fro in great excite- 
ment. Now is the book-maker's time, and he 
passes hither and thither, shouting his offers to the 
enthusiastic multitude, who accept or reject his 
propositions with eagerness or scorn, corresponding 
with their knowledge or ignorance of the horses 
ventured. Gambling and betting are at their 
height : vast sums of money change hands at the 
conclusion of the races, and many inexperienced 
as well as reckless ones leave the field at night 
ruined men. Meanwhile the confusion is inde- 
scribable. 

But these sounds drop away, and silence prevails 
as five slender well-shaped racers appear, ridden by 
jockeys, but when the wild mad race begins in 
which each endeavors to outdo the others, the ex- 
citement and tumult know no bounds: shouts, 
groans, cheers fill the air, and every eye is strained 
along the course: one could readily believe that a 



76 Odd Bits of Travel 

whole world of mad spirits has been let loose to fill 
the air with their hoarse discordant sounds. 

As the winning horse reaches the goal, a placard 
of large dimensions, on which his number is con- 
spicuously painted, is raised within full view of the 
swaying crowd. The shouts and cheers burst forth 
afresh, and jubilee and pandemonium mingle their 
extremes in a scene to be imagined only by those 
who have experienced it. 

As the first excitement cools, bets are paid, and 
accounts squared. Again the bell rings: another 
race, and a repetition of the previous scene, and so 
it continues for several hours. 

But the racing is not the sole attraction, as is 
evidenced by the crowds surrounding the refresh- 
ment booths and side tents, where for a small fee 
one may see the Fat Woman, the Skeleton Man, or 
the Double-Headed Boy; or listen to the colored 
minstrels who charm the soul with plantation 
melodies; or have his fortune told in the gypsy 
tent by a dark-eyed maid in gorgeous attire, who 
will tell of a wonderful future which is "sure to 
come true." Or you may have your photograph 
taken on the spot, and finished while you wait. 
Here is a phonograph representing a variety enter- 
tainment, and the little group around it are laughing 



Lights and Shadows of London Life 77 

heartily at the jokes of the "funny man," the ven- 
triloquist, and the story-teller. Here are fine bands 
of musicians, and dozens of oddities, and curious 
tricksters: and the Vv'hole forms one grand panorama 
of human life, the counterpart of which is to be seen 
nowhere else in the world. 

At five o'clock, the horses are harnessed to our 
tally-ho, and with smiling but dusty and sunburned 
faces we bid farewell to the scene of gayety and 
start for home. Every road and byway in the sur- 
rounding country is swarming with people, and the 
scale of pleasure, disappointment, grief, hilarity and 
fatigue is reflected in the countenances of riders and 
pedestrians. Here is a group, overheated, weary, 
dejected, trudging slowly along the way, inter- 
changing scarcely a word with each other: here a 
merry party, filled with life, singing, laughing, re- 
counting the events of the day, as they wander on, 
arm in arm. Now a little lame boy smiles in our 
faces from the tiny cart which his sister pushes 
cheerily forward, and now a gay belle dashes by in 
a carriage drawn by fast horses, holding the ribbons 
and whip in correct style, while her companion 
leans back, indolently enjoying the situation. 

The countenances of the men tell various tales, as 
the triumphs or failures of the day are expressed in 



78 Odd Bits of Travel 

their faces. Some few wear a stolid, impassive 
air, wliiie others talk, talk, talk, as though they 
have never had an opportunity till now. As we 
ride along amid the stupendous throngs, many 
thoughts are aroused, and many a picture is put 
away in the recesses of memory to be brought forth 
and pondered over on a future day. 

With the shades of night the curtain falls upon a 
scene of such magnitude that the brain is weary of 
contemplating it, and is glad to find temporary for- 
getfulness in " tired nature's sweet restorer." And 
so ends the great Derby Day. 






The chalky cliffs of Dover." [S ft' /age Sj.) 



Scenes in the Gay Capital. 




Scenes in the Gay CapltaL 

Dover to Calais — Paris — The Gay Capital by Night — Boulevards 
— Life in the Streets — Champs Elysees — Place de la Concorde 
— Arc d'Etoile — Place Vendonie — Louvre — Opera House — 
Palais Royal — Church of the Invalides — Versailles — Notre 
Dame — Jardin Mabille — The Madeleine — The Pantheon — 
The Banks of the Seine — French Funeral Ceremonies — La 
Morgue — Pere Lachaise. 

E travel from London to Dover by train, 
thence by steamer to Calais. The chalky 
cliffs of Dover with their high precipitous 
sides are a pleasant and restful farewell 
picture of the shores of old England. A short run 
of an hour or more lands us amid scenes so different 
from those of the past few weeks that we feel that 
the magician's wand has again been exercised and 
the " Presto, change," has transported us to a region 
of maliciously disposed genii, who will not under- 
stand us, or allow us to comprehend their mysterious 
utterances; and the transformation scene is complete 
as we enter Paris, the home of the light, the gay, 
the fantastic. 

Let the lover of the bright, the gay, the jovial, 
visit the broad boulevards of Paris by night, es- 

83 



84 Odd Bits of Travel 

pecially the Avenue des Champs Elysees, which 
seems to be the favorite promenade of the populace. 
Upon both sides are groves of trees, briUiantly illu- 
minated by myriads of colored lights, and here amid 
these bowers is to be found every variety of enter- 
tainment for the people. Games of chance are 
played in the gay booths. Punch and Judy shows 
attract crowds of children, wonderful feats of horse- 
manship are performed, singers in aerial costumes 
draw many to the Cafes Chantants, and the lights 
of innumerable cabs and carriages flit to and fro in 
every direction like will-o'-the-wisps. Here is fine 
military music, as well as exhibitions of skillful play- 
ing on almost every known instrument. 

The wide boulevards are long, straight and mar- 
vels of beauty, with their lovely gardens, handsome 
houses, and fine shops. 

There are strong contrasts in the lives of those 
one sees upon these streets under the gaslight. I 
think Dante's three realms are pretty clearly repre- 
sented along the avenues of Paris, beneath the 
starry dome of heaven, and within these gayly dec- 
orated booths and cafes. Here may be seen the 
high and the low, the rich and the poor, the grave 
and the gay, the innocent and the hardened in 
guilt, the adventurer and his unsuspecting victim. 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 85 

And this heterogeneous throng, this careless pleas- 
ure-loving crowd, may be seen drifting from one 
point to another till the cock crows the warning of 
approaching dawn. The streets of Paris by night 
afford abundant material for the artist, the photo- 
grapher, the poet, author and clergyman; as well 
as the adventurer. Here indeed, if anywhere, one 
may 

" read the human heart, 
Its strange, mysterious depths explore. 
What tongue could tell, or pen impart 
The riches of its hidden lore? " 

The Place de la Concorde is the most beautiful 
square in Paris. From its centre are magnificent 
views of the grand boulevards and many of the 
handsome public buildings, and here are the great 
bronze fountains marking the historic spot upon 
which stood the guillotine during the French Revo- 
lution. The lovely walks, the sparkling waters, 
and the statues and monuments, the obelisk, the 
merry strollers, and picturesque tableaux seen at 
every turn are positively enchanting. Up the broad 
vista of the Champs Elysees the eye rests upon the 
wonderful Arc d'Etoile, one of the most conspic- 
uous monuments in Paris. It stands in the Place 
d'Etoile, one of the most fashionable sections of the 



86 Odd Bits of Travel 

city, and is surrounded by elegant residences and 
pleasant gardens. From this point radiate twelve of 
the most beautiful avenues in Paris, and from the 
summit of the arch one can see for miles down these 
grand boulevards. The magnificent arch of triumph, 
commenced in 1806 by Napoleon, was not finished 
until 1836. It is a vast structure, rising one hun- 
dred and fifty feet from the ground. The great 
central arch is ninety feet high and forty-five feet 
wide, and is crossed by a spacious transverse arch. 
Upon the outside of the arch are groups of splen- 
didly executed statuary, representing scenes of con- 
quest and allegorical figures. A spiral staircase 
leads to the platform on top, where one beholds 
this superb prospect which well deserves its world- 
wide celebrity. 

We come upon the Place Vendome through the 
Rue de la Paix, and here stands the great historic 
column, erected by the first Napoleon in commem- 
oration of his victories over the Russians and Aus- 
trians. The monument is constructed of twelve 
hundred pieces of cannon, captured in the cam- 
paign of 1805. Upon the pedestal and around the 
shaft which is one hundred and thirty-five feet 
high, are bas-reliefs representing warlike imple- 
ments and the history of the war from the depar- 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 87 

ture of the troops from Boulogne to its end on the 
famous field of Austerlitz. 

In front of the central entrance to the court of 
the Tuileries, in the Place du Carrousel, is the Arc 
de Triomphe du Carrousel, also erected by Napo- 
leon I,, in 1806, in imitation of the triumphal arch 
of Severus at Rome. In the garden of the Tuiler- 
ies, with its old-time atmosphere, its statues, foun- 
tains and pillars, its groves and terraces, its historic 
ruins, its lovely flower-beds, we find a quaint and 
charming picture of a past age; yet when these 
groves and paths resound with the hum of human 
voices, when the many chairs and benches are filled 
with joyous human beings, the link between the 
past and present is established, and we are in one 
of the favorite resorts of the Parisians of to-day. 

Between the Tuileries and the Louvre is Napoleon's 
triumphal Arc du Carrousel — or rather between the 
courtyards of the two famous piles, which now 
form one continuous structure of magnificent archi- 
tectural design, whose facade is adorned with Co- 
rinthian columns, elaborate sculptures and lofty pa- 
vilions. Groups of statuary, representing the most 
distinguished men of France, allegorical figures, 
floral designs and other decorations on a vast scale 
ornament these magnificent pavilions, The space 



gg Odd Bits of Travel 

enclosed by the old and new Louvres and the 
Tuileries is about sixty acres. 

Some of the most beautiful of the architectural 
designs of the Louvre were completed by Napo- 
leon I., — to whom it owes much of its restoration, 
— from the drawings of Perrault, the famous author 
of Bluebeard, and the Sleeping Beauty. 

We cross a square and quickly find ourselves in 
the garden of the Palais Royal, once the Palais Car- 
dinal, and the home of Richelieu. The ground 
floor of the palace is occupied by shops. The garden 
which is enclosed by the four sides of the square, 
is about a thousand feet long and nearly four hun- 
dred feet wide. Here is a quadruple row of elms, 
also long flower-beds, shrubbery, a fountain and 
some statues. A military band plays here in the 
afternoon, but the garden presents the gayest scene 
in the evening, when it is brilliantly illuminated, 
and the chairs under the elms, as well as the long 
walks are filled with gay pleasure-seekers. 

There is a magnificent opera house near the 
Grand Hotel, whose vast exterior is ornamented 
with beautiful statuary, medallions, gilding and 
other rich decorations. 

In the Church of the Invalides we find the tomb 
of Napoleon 1., who in his will expressed a desire 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 89 

that his ashes might rest on the banks of the Seine, 
in the midst of the French people whom he had 
loved so well. The open circular crypt is beneath 
the lofty dome, whose light falls upon it through 
colored glass, and with a wonderful effect. The 
pavement of the crypt is a mosaic, representing a 
great crown of laurels, within which are inscribed 
the names of Napoleon's most important victories; 
and twelve colossal figures symbolizing conquests, 
surround the wreath. The sarcophagus rests upon 
the mosaic pavement within the crypt, which is 
twenty feet in depth. This is an enormous block 
of red sandstone, weighing more than sixty tons, 
which surmounts another huge block supported by 
a splendid rock of green granite. The scene is 
solemn and grandly impressive, the faint bluish 
light from above, producing an effect wholly inde- 
scribable. In the higher of the two cupolas, di- 
rectly over the crypt, is a painting, with figures 
which appear of life-size even at this great distance, 
of Christ presenting to St. Louis the sword with 
which he vanquished the enemies of Christianity. 

Here is Versailles, with its "little park of twelve 
miles in extent, and its great park of forty," with 
its beautiful fountains and grottos, its wonderful 
groves and flower-beds. Here are velvety lawns 



go Odd Bits of Travel 

adorned with fine statuary, green alleys, shrubberies 
and terraces, in which art and nature are so cun- 
ningly intermingled that they are often mistaken 
for each other. The fountains are representations 
of mythological characters, and the figures are car- 
ried out in their immediate surroundings. Apollo 
is in his grotto, served by seven graceful nymphs: 
while close by the steeds of the sun-god are being 
watered by tritons. Again, the basin of this god 
appears surrounded by tritons, nymphs and dol- 
phins, with Neptune and Amphitrite in the centre, 
reposing in an immense shell. 

Latona, Apollo and Diana are represented by a 
fine group: the goddess is imploring Jupiter to pun- 
ish the Lycian peasants who have refused her a 
draught of water, while all around her, in swift an- 
swer to her appeal, are the peasants, some partially 
transformed, others wholly changed into huge frogs 
and tortoises, condemned here to an endless pen- 
alty of casting jets of water toward the offended 
deity. 

Here is the famous old cathedral of Notre Dame 
de Paris with which Victor Hugo has made the 
world familiar. This grand Gothic structure was 
commenced in the twelfth century, and finished in 
the fourteenth. We view its exterior from a posi- 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 9^ 

tion facing the fine west fagade, with its wonderful 
rose window between the huge square towers. 
The three beautiful portals are ornamented with 
rich sculptures and imposing statuary. These 
doors form a succession of receding arches, dating 
from the early part of the thirteenth century. The 
central portion is a fine representation of the Last 
Judgment. The interior is vast and impressive with 
its vaulted arches and long rows of columns. The 
ancient stained glass of Notre Dame is represented 
by three magnificent rose windows. From the 
summit of the tower there is a glorious view of the 
Seine and its picturesque banks and bridges: indeed 
one of the loveliest views in Paris. 

Another famous and beautiful edifice is the Made- 
leine, or church of St. Mary Magdalene, which 
stands in an open space not far from the Place de 
la Concorde. It is in the form of a Grecian temple, 
surrounded by Corinthian columns, and the flight of 
twenty-eight steps by which one approaches the 
church, extends across its entire breadth. The great 
bronze doors are adorned with illustrations of the 
ten commandments. Within, the walls and floors 
are of marble richly ornamented, and the side 
chapels contain fine statues, and paintings of 
scenes from the life of Mary Magdalene. The 



92 Odd Bits of Travel 

high altar is a magnificent marble group represent- 
ing angels bearing Mary Magdalene into Paradise. 
This whole interior is indescribably beautiful, and 
to enter into its details one would require a volume. 
From this sublime spectacle we pass to the Church 
of St. Genevieve, the protectress of the city of 
Paris, familiarly known as the Pantheon. This 
also is a magnificent structure, with three rows of 
beautiful Corinthian columns supporting its portico. 
The handsome pediment above this portico contains 
a splendid group of statuary in high relief, repre- 
senting France in the act of distributing garlands to 
her famous sons. The central figure is fifteen feet 
in height. The ©difice is in the form of a Greek 
cross, surmounted by a majestic dome, two hun- 
dred and eighty feet high. 

Within the church the spacious rotunda is en- 
circled by Corinthian columns which support a 
handsome gallery, and he who ascends to the 
dome will have an opportunity of observing 
closely the wonderful painting, covering a space 
of thirty-seven hundred square feet, which rep- 
resents St. Genevieve receiving homage from 
Clovis, the first Christian monarch of France, Char- 
lemagne, St. Louis, and Louis XVIII., while the 
royal martyrs of the French Revolution are pictured 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 93 

in the heavenly regions above. In the gloomy 
vaults below we behold the tombs of a number 
of eminent men, among them those of Rousseau, 
Voltaire, and Soufflot, the architect of the Pantheon. 
In the middle of the vaults is an astonishing echo. 
The roll of a drum here would sound like the thun- 
der of artillery; a board dropped upon the pave- 
ment is like the report of a cannon, and the rever- 
berations are repeated over and over again as 
though these subterranean spirits are loth to resign 
the opportunity of speech so seldom afforded them. 
The tourist in Paris rarely fails to spend at least 
one evening in the Jardin Mabille; that is the male 
tourist, who is curious to behold life in all its 
phrases, and whom the fame of the garden attracts 
as the candle draws the moth. This is a pretty 
spot, with bowery paths, gay flowers, sparkling 
fountains, arbors and sheltered corners where lovers 
and others may enjoy tete-a-tetes undisturbed, and 
refreshments may be ordered to suit purses of all 
dimensions. There is a good orchestra on the bril- 
liantly illuminated stand, and here the soubrette is in 
the height of her glory, while the better class of the 
visitors are as a rule, only spectators. There is 
some pretty gay dancing here, but order is pre- 
served. On certain nights fine displays of fire- 



94 Odd Bits of Travel 

works attract many spectators. But the great fea- 
ture is the dance, and the proprietors generally em- 
ploy some girls distinguished by peculiar grace, 
beauty, or other characteristics who serve as mag- 
nets to the light and pleasure-loving throngs. 

But why attempt to give even a faint idea of the 
innumerable attractions of the city whose abundant 
resources bewilder the tourist whose time is lim- 
ited. It teems with life. It is overflowing with 
beauty, passion and love. Wandering along its 
gay boulevards, whether in the bright sunshine, or 
beneath the starry vault of night, with picturesque 
mansions or gay shops on either side, or amid the 
bowery paths and bewitching avenues, the gardens, 
statues, music and laughter, one feels that he is in 
an enchanted land, where high and low, rich and 
poor share alike in the universal beauty and happi- 
ness. 

The charming banks of the Seine offer endless 
attractions. Here are many beautiful bridges, from 
which one may have picturesque views of the 
lovely gardens and palaces. These bridges are 
handsoniely ornamented with statuary, bronzes, 
and reliefs, and bear interesting inscriptions. Float- 
ing bathing establishments are to be seen along 
these banks, and swimming schools for both sexes. 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 95 

Here are also large floats or boats capable of accom- 
modating at least fifty women, who wash their 
clothing in the Seine. It is quite interesting to 
watch these robust girls and women, as they pat 
and slap the heaps of muslin with the large paddles 
provided for this purpose. 

When a death occurs in a family of the middle 
class in Paris, it is customary to drape the whole 
lower story of the house with black, and place the 
body of the deceased in the front room. Holy water 
is placed at the head, also candles and a crucifix, 
and any one may enter and view the body, or 
sprinkle it with holy water, and offer a prayer for 
the soul of the departed. 

The men who pass a house so distinguished rev- 
erently uncover their heads: they also take off their 
hats on the appearance of a funeral, and remain so 
until the procession has passed. 

For him who is interested in such sights, the 
morgue presents a curious but sad attraction. Here 
lie on marble slabs, kept cool by a continuous 
stream of water, the bodies of unknown persons 
who have met their death in the river or by acci- 
dent. Their clothing is suspended above their heads, 
and any one may enter and view these silent rows. 
After a certain period, if not identified, they are 



96 Odd Bits of Travel 

buried at the public expense. I behold many 
pathetic sights here, as broken-hearted relatives find 
their worst fears realized and lost and erring ones 
are recognized. Sad, sad are the pictures to be 
seen at the morgue. Here is a fair young girl, of 
not more than twenty years, resting peacefully upon 
her marble bed, her troubles in this world over for- 
ever. Her body was found yesterday floating on 
the Seine. 

" One more unfortunate 
Weary of breath, 
Sadly importunate, 
Gone to her death. 

" Touch her not scornfully ; 
Think of her mournfully, 

Gently and humanly ; 
Not of the stains of her, 
All that remains of her 

Now is pure womanly. 

" Make no deep scrutiny 
Into her mutiny 

Rash and undutiful : 
Past all dishonor, 
Death has left on her 

Only the beautiful." 

Pere Lachaise, once an old Jesuit stronghold, is 
now the largest cemetery in Paris. It is said that 



Scenes in the Gay Capital 97 

there are more than eighteen thousand monuments 
here. The older part is much crowded, and we 
find here famous names connected with every age 
and profession. 

Here is a granite pyramid, here one of white 
marble, and here the love of a nation commemorates 
with tlowers the grave of a man whose resting- 
place no lofty monument marks, but who "lives 
forever in the hearts of the French people." Here a 
monument whose sides exhibit bas-reliefs of the 
fable of the fox and stork, and the wolf and lamb, 
is surmounted by the figure of a fox carved in black 
marble. This is the tomb of Lafontaine. The little 
Gothic chapel yonder is the tomb of Abelard, whose 
efifigy lies upon the sarcophagus within, and beside 
it is that of Heloise. This double monument is very 
lovely, although the signs of neglect and decay are 
plainly visible. 

The military chiefs of Napoleon's day sleep in this 
cemetery, and here lie the mortal remains of St. 
Pierre, the author of Paul and Virginia, of the great 
painter, David, of Pradier, the sculptor, the actress 
Rachel, and hundreds of others with whose names 
we are all familiar. The grounds are picturesque 
with winding paths, and cypress groves, and 
wreaths and flowers everywhere testify to the lov- 



98 Odd Bits of Travel 

ing remembrance in which the dead are held by the 
living. The elevated position of Pere Lachaise 
gives one a fine view of the city. The grounds 
when first laid out in 1804, covered upward of 
forty acres; they now extend over more than two 
hundred acres, and it is said that 125,000,000 have 
been expended in monuments since this cemetery 
was opened. 



Antwerp and the 

City of Windmills. 



L.0C0. 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills* 

From Paris to Antwerp — Along the Route — Thrifty Farmers- 
Antwerp — Dogs in Harness — The River — Old Churches — 
Chimes — An Inappreciative Listener — Steen Museum — Instru- 
ments of Torture — LaCe Industry — Living Expenses — Hospi- 
tality — The City of Windmills — Watery Highways — A City 
of Canals — The Maas River — The Houses on the Canals — 
Travel by Boats — Novel Scenes — Costly Headgear — Dutch 
Costumes — Powerful Draught Horses — No Bonbons — Choco- 
late Candy— In the Market-PIace — The Belle of the Market — 
Photographs — Wooden Shoes — Drawbridges — Blowing the 
Horn — Ancient Relics — The Sword of Columbus. 




HE country between Paris and Antwerp is 
delightful, and very different from the 
lovely landscapes of England. Farms, 
towns, villages, all present a novel aspect, 
and the people speak a language very strange to 
our ears. The great fields along the road are not 
fenced in but are only distinguished from one an- 
other by the difference in the appearance of the 
crops. In England, as I have said, there are beauti- 
ful hedges everywhere separating the fields and 
meadows. 

Here are strong men and women working side 
by side in the fields. Here are buxom country 

101 



102 Odd Bits of Travel 

lasses, rope in hand, one end of which is attached 
to the horns of the leader of a herd of cattle. These 
are glowing pictures, and the clean farmhouses, 
fields and roads are abundant evidences of the in- 
dustry and thrift of the people. 

Antwerp may well be termed a city of charms 
and fascinations. It is the most attractive and in- 
teresting town in Belgium, and at the same time one 
of the strongest fortresses in Europe. Our first im- 
pression of this place is of clean orderly streets, 
paved with the square Belgian blocks which endure 
so well the wear and tear of constant travel. The 
houses and shops are of a quaint, ancient style of 
architecture, and very picturesque effect. During 
the middle ages, Antwerp was a very important, as 
well as wealthy city, and its splendid docks, its 
wonderful cathedral, its magnificent paintings all 
testify that a period of exceptional prosperity has 
been granted to it in the past. 

A strange sight are the heavy freight wagons, 
with their broad wheels and various loads, drawn 
by large powerful dogs. In many cases the dogs, 
of which there are sometimes two or three, are 
strapped under the body of the wagon by a kind of 
leather harness, or, if the owner be too poor, rope is 
substituted. A man or woman assists in drawing 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 103 

the load, which is frequently so massive as to appear 
disproportioned to the combined strength of man 
and beast. The dogs are bred and trained for their 
peculiar vocation, and are never allowed to shirk 
their part of the burden imposed upon them. Should 
they attempt to do so, they are quickly recalled to 
their duty by a small whip, hence the maximum re- 
sult may be obtained from their labor. Their muscular 
limbs show plainly that they possess great strength 
and endurance. Large powerful draught horses with 
well defined muscles are also used. These horses 
must weigh fully from twelve to sixteen hundred 
pounds, and when four or six are harnessed abreast, 
tons of merchandise may be moved in one load. 
Antwerp, a city of about 260,000 inhabitants, is one 
of the greatest seaports of Europe, having splendid 
facilities for ships of every size, and huge warehouses 
for the landing and storage of immense quantities 
of merchandise. It is finely situated on the Schelde, 
which is at this point one third of a mile wide and 
thirty feet deep, and serves as an outlet for the com- 
merce of Germany as well as Belgium. The town 
was founded in the seventh century, and has passed 
through many vicissitudes, attaining the summit of 
its glory under the Emperor Charles V., about the 
close of the fifteenth century. At that period it is 



104 ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Travel 

said that thousands of vessels lay in the Schelde at 
one time, and a hundred or more arrived and de- 
parted daily. Its decline began under the Spanish 
rule, when the terrors of the Inquisition banished 
thousands of its most valuable citizens, who sought 
refuge in other countries, especially in England, 
where they established silk factories, and assisted 
greatly in stimulating the commerce of the country. 
After scenes of war and frightful devastation, varied 
by brief seasons of prosperity, the tide of success 
once more returned to the old harbors about 1863, 
and since then its commerce has increased in a 
greater ratio than that of any other European city. 
The Flemish population predominates, and its 
characteristics are those of a German town. 

We enjoy many lovely views along the river 
frontage, where dozens upon dozens of ships lining 
the banks, offer a variety of pictures to the lover of 
water scenes, besides the fine prospect of the town 
from the river. 

That the Cathedral is the first attraction for the 
tourist goes without saying, and those are well re- 
paid who climb far up into its magnificent spire, 
even beyond the great group of bells that captivate 
the soul with their wonderful sweetness and melody. 
At a height of four hundred feet, the vast prospect 




'The largest ami handsomest Gothic church in the Netherlands." 

{See page /oj.) 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 107 

spread out before one is indescribably beautiful. 
This Cathedral, the largest and handsomest Gothic 
church in the Netherlands, was begun in 1352, but 
was not completed until about 1616. The chimes 
consist of ninety-nine bells, the smallest of which is 
only fifteen inches in circumference, while the largest 
weighs eight tons. The chimes are rung every fifteen 
minutes, a musical reminder that the soul of man, 
no matter what his occupation, should be elevated 
by continual aspiration toward the living God. Oh, 
these beautiful chimes! What wondrous harmony 
they peal forth, and what a multitude of loving 
thoughts they gather up and waft hourly to the very 
gates of heaven! 

A stranger in the town, and a traveller, made the 
remark to me that these bells must be very annoy- 
ing, ringing at such short intervals, and especially 
at night, "it is worse than a swarm of mosqui- 
toes," he said, "for one can escape the attentions 
of these insects by placing a net over his couch, but 
the piercing sounds of these monstrous bells pen- 
etrate one like the chill of zero weather." This re- 
minded me of a rnan who shared our compartment 
in one of the French railway cars, who interrupted 
my enthusiastic remarks on Westminster Abbey, its 
exquisite associations, and the sacred atmosphere 



io8 Odd Bits of Travel 

which impressed all who came within its hallowed 
walls, by an eager question regarding the luncheon 
to be served an hour later. 

The interior of the Cathedral impresses one with 
its grand simplicity, and the long vistas of its six 
aisles present a fine effect. Here is Rubens' famous 
masterpiece, the Descent from the Cross, and his 
earlier painting, the Elevation of the Cross, both 
magnificent works, remarkable for the easy and 
natural attitudes of the figures. The high altar-piece 
is an Assumption by Rubens, in which the Virgin 
is pictured in the clouds surrounded by a heavenly 
choir, with the apostles and other figures below. 

There are many other paintings here; also stained 
glass windows, both ancient and modern. The 
tower is an open structure of beautiful and elaborate 
design, from which lovely viev/s may be seen dur- 
ing the journey to its summit. 

Another interesting landmark is the "Steen" 
originally forming part of the Castle of Antwerp, 
but in 1549 Charles V. made it over to the burghers 
of Antwerp. It was afterward the seat of the 
Spanish Inquisition. It is now occupied by the 
Museum van Oudheden, a collection of ancient and 
curious relics from the Roman times till the eight- 
eenth century. Within this building one may view 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 109 

the identical instruments of torture so mercilessly 
used by the Spanish inquisitors in the name of re- 
ligion. It would not be difficult to photograph 
these diabolical inventions, for many of them are 
quite free from the surrounding objects, and not en- 
cased, in this collection we see also specimens of 
antique furniture, and a variety of ornaments, coins, 
costumes, tapestry curtains, ancient prints and en- 
gravings, and many other objects well worthy of 
observation. 

In Antwerp we have the opportunity of seeing 
some exquisite laces and embroideries. A visit to 
one of the many establishments here cannot fail to 
interest the stranger. At one of the shops we are 
conducted to a room in which a dozen girls are at 
work upon a delicate piece of lace. They have been 
engaged upon this masterpiece for about three 
months, and the proprietor tells us that as much 
more time will be required to finish it. The design 
is a huge web, in the centre of which is the sly 
spider apparently watching the victims who have 
strayed beyond the line of safety. A number of 
handsome and rare specimens of this valuable hand- 
work are exhibited in the shop window, and one's 
desire to possess them may be satisfied by a 
moderate expenditure of money. 



no Odd Bits of Travel 

Antwerp is the city of Rubens. We find his 
tomb in the beautiful church of St. Jacques, rich in 
carvings and noble paintings, not far from the fine 
altarpiece painted by his hand. He lies in the 
Rubens Chapef, and here too are monuments of two 
of his descendants. The house in which the illus- 
trious artist died stands in a street named for him, 
and in the Place Verte, formerly the churchyard of 
the Cathedral, stands a bronze statue of Rubens, 
thirteen feet in height upon a pedestal twenty feet 
high. At the feet of the master lie scrolls and 
books, also brushes, palette and hat; allusions to 
the talented diplomatist and statesman, as well as to 
the painter. 

One need not feel alarmed as to his expenses in 
this charming old town, for comfortable accommo- 
dations and good board may be enjoyed at less than 
moderate rates. I love this dear city, not only for 
its magnificent Cathedral, its rare paintings, its 
picturesque surroundings; but also for the re- 
markable hospitality of its people, their genial 
manner, their smiling faces. Their candor and 
honesty win the admiration and the heart of the 
tourist, and the stranger is quickly at home, and 
able to enjoy most fully the many attractions which 
the place affords. 




The place is intersected everywhere by canals." [Si-e /a^r / /j . ) 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 113 

But the time has come to bid it adieu; we take 
the train and in two hours find ourselves in the ever 
quaint and picturesque town of Rotterdam, fitly 
named the " City of Windmills." 

Comfortable quarters may be found here at the 
Maas Hotel. Rotterdam, whose population is some- 
thing over two hundred thousand, is the second 
city in commercial importance in Holland. Among 
its numerous attractions are art galleries, parks, 
gardens, the markets, bridges and canals, without 
mentioning the many windmills which wave their 
arms in blessing over the city. The place is inter- 
sected everywhere by canals, all deep enough for 
the passage of heavily laden ships, and with such 
names as the Oude Haven, Scheepmakershaven, 
Leuvehaven, Nieuwe Haven, Wynhaven, Blaak, and 
Haringvliet. 

Our hotel is situated upon the bank of the Maas 
River, and our windows overlook this body of 
water, which is in reality a highway. Instead 
of wagons drawn by strong muscular horses, 
however, barges, schooners, sail boats, and every 
kind of small craft, overflowing with fruits, vege- 
tables and other produce, traverse the river as well 
as the canals. Looking over these watery roads, 
the mind is confused by the hundreds of boats 



114 ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Travel 

which seem inextricably mingled in one great mass, 
and appear to form a blockade as far as the eye can 
reach. Rotterdam might fitly add to its title of 
" City of Windmills," that of the " City of Canals." 
Houses, stores and other buildings are built directly 
upon the banks, and in fact, the foundations of 
these form the sides of the canals. In many cases 
the balconies of residences overhang the water, and 
passages are ma^ie beneath, by means of which pro- 
duce, freight and other articles are conveyed to and 
from the buildings by boats, much as the wagons 
deliver goods in our cities from the streets to the 
houses. 

All these novel sights impress the visitor with the 
great difference between the manners and customs 
of this nation and our ov/n; the result of the pecul- 
iar environment of the two countries. A stroll 
about the city affords abundant opportunity for in- 
teresting observations. Here one sees hundreds of 
Dutch women in their costly headgear of gold and 
silver, heirlooms of many generations. These head 
ornaments sometimes cover the entire scalp, and 
have curious filigree additions extending over the 
ears and temples. The head is first covered with a 
scrupulously clean and beautiful lace cap, upon 
which the gold or silver ornament is placed. These 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 115 

heirlooms are valued beyond all price, and I have 
handled some which are two hundred years old, 
and which are held as sacred charges to be trans- 
mitted to posterity. 

As we traverse the streets of this quaint city, we 
feel indeed that fashion has stood still here for 
many years. The custom is universal throughout 
Holland for the natives of the different provinces, 
as Volendam, Marken, Brock, etc., to wear in pub- 
lic, and especially when travelling, the costume pe- 
culiar to their own province, and it is by no means 
uncommon to see many odd and quaintly dressed 
women in close proximity to one another, each one 
representing by some peculiarity, a different prov- 
ince or section of the country. For instance; when 
I see the skirt of blue homespun made in full folds, 
and worn with a jacket of striped red and white, 
and the peaked bonnet trimmed v/ith red and white 
tape, I know that the wearer is a native of the is- 
land of Marken. These various costumes, all gay 
and picturesque, are the source of great pleasure to 
the stranger, and add new life and interest to his 
travels in this country. 

Here also we notice the huge, powerful draught 
horses, with their massive hoofs and shaggy legs, 
drawing strange looking wagons laden with curi- 



ii6 Odd Bits of Travel 

ous boxes and furniture. The wooden shoes worn 
by the working classes also attract our attention 
and many other novel sights and customs give us 
the impression that we have chartered one of Jules 
Verne's original conveyances and wandered off to a 
country not located on this earthly planet. 

Wishing to purchase some bonbons, we enter a 
candy shop and ask the fair maid behind the counter 
to put up a pound of this confection : our amaze- 
ment is great when she replies that this form of 
sweetmeat is not to be found in Rotterdam. 
" What," I exclaim, " no sweets for the sweet girls 
of Holland?" " No, only chocolate candy." And 
this indeed is the only kind of bonbon to be had in 
Rotterdam. The sweet chocolate is moulded into 
various shapes. It is delicious, excelling in purity 
and flavor that which is made in any other part of 
the world. 

Our guide is very attentive and energetic; and 
anxious to show us everything of interest about the 
town, he conducts us through the numerous mar- 
ket-places. At one of these some amusement is 
excited by my photographs and sketches of the 
market people and the buyers. The market man 
stands beside his wares with a happy, good-natured 
face that seems to say that the cares and worries of 




'• In many cases the balconies of residences overhang the water." 

(See page 1/4.) 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 119 

this world affect him not at all. The whole scene 
is like some vividly colored picture, and I think as I 
look upon it that this life bears with it pleasures of 
which we of the outside world know nothing. 
Apparently the people of this country possess the 
rare blessing of contentment with the lot which 
God has bestowed upon them. 

An old man and woman are particularly anxious 
for me to photograph their daughter, who they as- 
sure me is the belie of the market. This assertion, 
1 think, may be true without much compliment to 
the girl, for a homelier set of human beings it 
would not be easy to find. After some prelimina- 
ries relating to posing and keeping back the curious 
country people who crowd closely around me and 
the camera, I finally succeed in making a good pic- 
ture of the Belle of the Rotterdam Market, with her 
father and mother on either side. They are all as 
proud as Punch of this performance, and seem 
quite "set up " by the occasion. 

One day being near to a manufacturer of the 
wooden shoes worn by the peasants, our party of 
four slips within the shop, and are fitted after try- 
ing on at least a dozen pairs, to the apparent de- 
light of Meinherr. It is necessary to wear a heavy 
woollen stocking to secure comfort in these shoes. 



120 Odd Bits of Travel 

The ordinary American stocking would soon be 
rubbed into holes by the hard surface of the shoe. 
Indeed it is quite a feat to be able to walk rapidly 
and gracefully in this clumsy footwear. 

Over many of the watery streets of the city draw- 
bridges are built, which are opened at intervals to 
allow the streams of boats to pass. The incessant 
blowing of a trumpet or horn similar to that of the 
tally-ho notifies the watchman of the approach of 
boats. This sound may be heard at all hours of the 
day or night in any part of the city, and is at first, 
especially at night, rather disturbing to the stranger, 
but like other annoyances which are inevitable, the 
exercise of a little patience and endurance will en- 
able one to eventually like the trumpet, or else to 
become as deaf to them as old "Dame Eleanor 
Spearing." 

I know of no place in which the lover of the an- 
tique, whether he is a collector of ancient coins, 
jewels, china, furniture, or a seeker after rare curios 
and relics, can experience greater delight than in 
this old city of Rotterdam. Here are hundreds of 
shops, whose proprietors devote their whole lives 
to the accumulation of such objects, and it is need- 
less to say that their stock is rich and unique, and 
possesses abundant variety. We visit a number of 



Antwerp and the City of Windmills 121 

these establishments, and I succeed in gathering up 
a large assortment of old swords which please my 
fancy. One of these is said to have been owned by 
Christopher Columbus (?). The shopkeeper vouches 
for the truth of the statement, and as I am willing 
to believe it, in the absence of proof to the contrary, 
I label it as the sword of the great navigator who 
added a new hemisphere to our globe. The remain- 
ing swords have been the personal property of 
lords, generals or other warlike celebrities, and 
again I take comfort in the thought that if the rec- 
ords are not truthful, it is a minor consideration 
when taking into account the moderate prices 
which I have paid for the articles. 

The artist will find in Rotterdam a wealth of ma- 
terial both for figure subjects, and odd and pictur- 
esque bits of landscape. Here too are wonderful 
interiors, with all the quaint associations of a by- 
gone age. Here are scenes on the canals, the 
bridges, and the ever changing life on the river. 
By all means visit Rotterdam if you desire original 
studies for your sketch book. 




The belle of the Market." {See page iig.) 



A City of Many Islands. 



A City of Many Islands* 

Amsterdam — The People of Holland — Amstel River — Merry Ex- 
cursionists — Interesting Institutions — Origin of the City — 
Source of Prosperity — A Cousin to Venice — Ninety Islands — 
Beams and Gables — Block and Tackle — Old Salesmen — 
Street Markets — Haarlem — Railway Travel at Home and 
Abroad — Ancient Buildings — Historic Associations — In the 
Canal — Groote Kerk — The Great Organ — Picturesque Sub- 
jects — Zandvoort — Eau de Cologne — The Beach — Dutch Sail 
Boats — Seamen — Hooded Chairs — Peddlers — Music in Hol- 
land and Germany — Gypsies — We Meet an Artist — Hospital- 
ity — A Banquet. 




MSTERDAM, the commercial capital of 
Holland, is but a short ride from Rotter- 
dam, and like all the other "dam" cities 
of this region, possesses many attractions 
of its own, besides being the centre or hub from 
which radiate trips to many picturesque towns and 
other points of interest. 

These irreverent sounding terminations do not by 
any means imply that the cities so called are steeped in 
wickedness and crime. On the contrary they are re- 
markable as being towns of exceptional purity and 
honesty, possessing churches, libraries and schools 

127 



128 Odd Bits of Travel 

which bear witness to the good and loving aspira- 
tions of a conscientious Christian people. 

The natives of Holland are kind and peaceable in 
disposition, and fair in their dealings with one 
another. They are personally very attractive on 
account of the natural simplicity of their everyday 
lives, and the high principle of honor and morality 
upon which they conduct their business transactions. 
They train their children in accordance with these 
principles, and the visitor cannot fail to appreciate 
their virtues, and rest securely in the confidence that 
he will receive fair and courteous treatment from 
both young and old. 

The Amstel River, viewed from the windows of 
our hotel, presents a beautiful picture. Upon the op- 
posite bank are handsome residences, of substantial, 
square and regular architecture, while in slow, calm 
motion on the river may be seen boats of every de- 
scription, many of them with a cargo of human 
beings; and the gay national flags and other brilliant 
bunting floating in the fresh breeze have a gala ap- 
pearance as the boats steam or row past our hotel. 
Merry songs and happy laughter drift back to our 
ears, and it seems as though we have at last reached 
a land exempt from the cares and sorrows of the 
everyday world. 



A City of Many Islands 129 

The Dutch people are as a class happy and satis- 
fied, with a cheerful manner, and a cordial and 
genuine welcome. 

Amsterdam is indeed a great city, with number- 
less points of interest for the visitor, without 
mentioning its museums, art galleries, theatres, 
libraries, churches and other institutions; its botani- 
cal garden, university, parks and tramways. 

The town was founded by Gysbrecht II., Lord of 
Amstel, who built a castle here in 1204, and con- 
structed the dam to which it owes its name. In the 
fourteenth century it began to increase in impor- 
tance, becoming at that time a refuge for the mer- 
chants who were banished from Brabant. At the 
close of the sixteenth century, when Antwerp was 
ruined by the Spanish war, and many merchants, 
manufacturers, artists and other men of talent and 
enterprise fled from the horrors of the Inquisition to 
Holland, Amsterdam nearly doubled its population, 
and the conclusion of peace in 1609, and the estab- 
lishment of the East India Company combined to 
raise the town within a short time to the rank of 
the greatest commercial city in Europe. Its popula- 
tion in 1890, excluding the suburbs, was 406,300. 

Amsterdam is generally at first sight compared 
with Venice, which it certainly resembles in two 



130 Odd Bits of Travel 

points. Both cities are intersected by numerous 
canals, and tlie buildings of both are constructed 
upon piles; but there the similarity ends. There are 
wide, bustling thoroughfares in Amsterdam, trav- 
ersed by wagons and drays which could have no 
place in the city of gondolas and ancient palaces. 

The canals, or Grachten, which intersect Amster- 
dam in every direction, are of various sizes, and di- 
vide the city into ninety islands; and these are con- 
nected by nearly three hundred bridges. There are 
four principal, or grand canals, which are in broad, 
handsome avenues, bordered with trees, and with 
sidewalks for pedestrians. The other canals inter- 
sect these and serve to connect one part of the town 
with another, as short streets cross wide highways 
and main thoroughfares in other places. Rows of 
fine-looking houses line the banks of these water- 
courses, and as all the buildings are constructed on 
foundations of piles, the old quotation of "a city 
whose inhabitants dwell on the tops of trees Uke 
rooks," is not without considerable truth. The 
quaint old architecture of the stores and houses is of 
itself a source of great interest to the visitor. We 
have seen so many pictures of these odd gabled and 
tiled roofs overhanging the windows, that at first 
one has the impression of awakening from a dream 




" The Anistel River." [See page 128 



A City of Many Islands 13;^ 

to its reality. Remarkable order and cleanliness 
prevail everywhere, adding to tliis feeling, for the 
wear and tear of daily living do not seem to affect 
the almost immaculate atmosphere of the place. 
Windows are as clear as crystal, and the woodwork 
of the houses everywhere looks as if freshly 
scrubbed and sanded. Projecting from the attic 
windows of many buildings may be seen a pole or 
beam, from which hangs a block and tackle used to 
hoist furniture and other heavy or bulky articles 
from the sidewalk to the upper stories. These 
things are not carried up the winding stairway, as 
with us, scratching and defacing the walls and 
paint, as well as the furniture, and resulting in 
much vexation and the utterance of unseemly swear 
words. All this is avoided by the methods of the 
people of Holland, and the citizens of America 
would profit by adopting them, if only as a means 
of avoiding the temptation to express one's feelings 
in violent and irreligious language. 

Among the thousand and one attractions of this 
interesting city, the curious-looking old junks, or 
salesmen and women stationed at various points on 
the streets, are not unworthy the notice of the pho- 
tographer or artist. Their wares consist of old 
scrap iron, rusty saws, perhaps toothless, hammers 



134 Odd Bits of Travel 

without handles, nails of every size, files, beds and 
other articles of furniture apparently dating back to 
scriptural ages. Such markets, where odds and 
ends of every imaginable kind are gathered into 
piles and sold to the poorer classes of the people, 
seem to be sanctioned by the authorities, and some- 
times present a very active and thriving appearance. 
They are not unpicturesque in their odd combina- 
tions of color, attitude and expression. 

The great windmills along the canal, with their 
huge revolving arms, and the boats with their loads 
of merchandise ; the peasant women with their 
quaint costumes and elaborate yet funny head- 
dresses; the tall Dutch houses with their red and 
yellow brick fronts and lofty tiles and gables, the 
beautiful avenues of elms along the grand Grachten, 
the vast docks, with forests of masts, and countless 
ships from all parts of the world, and products of 
every country, the wonderful dikes, all form a suc- 
cession of views of charming variety and individual 
beauty that are fascinating to the newcomer. 

Many short trips may be taken from here either 
by boat or train, and he who would fill his portfolio 
with quaint and lovely pictures, will find his en- 
thusiasm aroused, no matter in which direction he 
may venture, or whether his expedition be on land 



A City of Many Islands 135 

or water. Interesting localities are always within 
easy reach, and the moderate rate for transportation 
and accommodation render all points accessible to 
the traveller whose purse is of the most slender 
dimensions. 

Take with me the trip to Haarlem and Zandvoort. 
Proceeding to the Central Railroad Station, we pur- 
chase tickets which entitle us to the short ride in 
the usual compartment car. And here one may 
note the difference between railroad travel through- 
out England and on the Continent, and the Ameri- 
can system, instead of having one car into which 
passengers of all kinds, black and white, rich and 
poor, merchants and emigrants crowd as in free 
America, European trains are divided into three sec- 
tions, viz: first, second and third class. Although 
the more general experience is that the second class 
compartments are quite as comfortable, clean and 
attractive as the first class compartments, the price 
of the latter is nearly double that of the former, and 
the fare of the second class nearly double that of 
the third. In many sections of England, Scotland 
and Germany, the third class accommodations are 
by no means unpleasant: but do not take third class 
tickets when travelling in Ireland, for should you do 
so, it is more than probable that just as you are 



136 Odd Bits of Travel 

waxing into lofty enthusiasm over the romantic 
and beautiful scenery around you, Paddy with his 
wife and progeny, several pigs, and whatever other 
small live stock can be conveniently or inconven- 
iently dragged along, will be planted by your side, 
or roam about you in such unpleasant proximity as 
to change all your romantic visions into the most 
unromantic prose. 

Here we are in the quaint old town of Haarlem, 
famous in past years for its tulips, and now noted 
for its well-kept gardens and avenues, as well as for 
the curious old houses of brick and stone v/hich are 
the delight of all the visitors to Holland. These 
lofty steeples and rovv^s of ancient and picturesque 
houses have looked down upon many generations, 
and witnessed scenes of suffering and endurance 
that have been registered on the pages of history ; 
for like Leyden, Haarlem sustained a long siege 
during the war for independence, and stones of the 
heroism of both men and women have come down 
through the long centuries to tell us of experiences 
of which these ancient structures, stately and silent, 
give no sign. So well cared for are the old build- 
ings, that one can readily imagine that they will ap- 
pear as they do to-day for many centuries to come. 

How we enjoy this historic old place! The very 



A City of" Many Islands 137 

air we breathe seems laden with odors of the past. 
The flower-beds are wonderfully attractive, with 
their gay colors and delicious fragrance. Whole 
fields of tulips, hyacinths, lilies, and other brilliant 
blooming plants in every shade of color are to be 
seen here, and this town supplies many of the larg- 
est gardens of Europe with roots. The Spaarne 
River winds through the town, which possesses 
the characteristic cleanliness of the other cities of 
Holland. 

While driving along the bank of the canal here, 
our attention is attracted by the sound of loud, 
shrill cries which seem to come from the water. 
" What! " I say, " do the lurking spirits of the slain 
thus make themselves known to the living.? Are 
there still lingering ' pale gliding ghosts, with fin- 
gers dropping gore ' ? " Whatever it may be, dead 
or living, ghost or mortal, I bid the driver halt, and 
alighting, hasten to the edge of the canal. Looking 
into the dark muddy water, I see a lad of about 
twelve years, just able to keep his head above the 
stream, and screaming lustily for help. A young 
man reaches the spot at the sam.e moment, and 
plunges instantly into the canal to the rescue of the 
boy who is too much frightened and exhausted to 
give any account of himself. 



138 Odd Bits of Travel 

The "Groote" market is in the middle of the 
town, and here is to be seen one of the finest old 
buildings in this part of the country. This is the 
ancient meat market, built in 1603, of brick and 
stone, and quaint and picturesque enough to charm 
the soul of an artist v/ith an irresistible desire to 
carry it home upon his canvas. 

In the market-place also stands the Groote Kerk, 
an imposing and lofty structure, dating back to the 
end of the fifteenth century, with its tower of two 
hundred and fifty-five feet adding grace and beauty 
to the edifice. The interior will more than repay 
one for the time spent in examining it. The old 
walls are whitewashed to hide the ravages of time 
and cover the scars, many of which, history tells 
us, are the results of the Spanish siege. Here 
are odd and elaborate carvings, crude, primitive 
benches, and the crossbeams forming the ceiling 
alone would convince one of the antiquity of this 
relic of the middle ages. The organ, constructed 
in 1735, was for many years looked upon as the 
most powerful in the world, and still ranks as one 
of the largest instruments in existence. It contains 
four keyboards, sixty-four stops, and five thousand 
pipes, the greatest of which is fifteen inches in 
diameter, and thirty two feet in length. We en- 



A City of Many Islands 139 

deavor to persuade the rector to allow us to play 
upon this wonderful instrument, but he is beyond 
flattery, coaxing or bribery; faithfully adhering to 
the rigid rules, which decree that recitals shall be 
held only on certain regular days. How we long 
to hear the voice of this noble masterpiece which 
has uplifted the soul of man, and bidden him look 
to God in his times of tribulation, or fill this lofty 
dome with joyous notes of praise and thanksgiving 
in days of peace and prosperity. I think of the 
stories these old walls could tell of the cruelties of 
the Spanish intruders; for here are marks too deep 
for paint to conceal, or time to efface. But one 
could write interminably of these old towns with 
their quaint and glowing pictures. At every turn a 
new and attractive scene presents itself, and we 
reluctantly tear ourselves away, only half satisfied, 
and proceed to Zandvoort, a somewhat fashionable 
resort on the coast of the Noord Zee. At the railway 
stations and on the streets one can buy the Cologne 
water in small glass bottles which is so popular 
throughout Holland, and which is sold much as 
peanuts and pretzels are sold in our country. The 
quality is excellent, and the price is so moderate 
that the use of this perfume is really carried to ex- 
cess by tourists, who find that it not only refreshes 



140 Odd Bits of Travel 

one after the fatigue of a journey, but cleanses the 
face from dust and cinders. 

We alight at a small unpretentious station, the 
terminus of this railroad, and walk a short distance 
to the beach. The pure salt air seems like a delight- 
ful tonic. This is a beautiful coast, sloping gradually 
to the water which is very deep. With the white 
sand for a carpet, we wander on for miles, feasting 
our eyes upon the lovely scene which at every turn 
presents a new attraction. Here are old Dutch sail 
boats drawn up on the beach, and the picture is en- 
hanced by the groups of sailors waiting for the 
tide. Their blue homespun jackets, rugged faces 
and not ungraceful attitudes are very suggestive to 
the artist. 

The season seems to be either early or late, for 
the people along the shore are scant in number. 
Fresh looking wicker chairs, with large comfortable 
seats and sheltering hoods, stand in front of the 
hotels and at the water's edge, and at a trifling cost, 
offer rest to the weary pedestrian, and protection to 
the shy lovers who seek to escape the embarrassing 
gaze of the public. Here is the ubiquitous and per- 
severing fruit and cake or sandwich vendor, with 
basket suspended from the shoulder, pausing before 
the chairs, or waylaying passers-by with importuni- 




Wicker cliairs offer rest to tlie weary pedestrian." [See page 140.) 



A City of Many Islands 14^ 

ties to purchase grapes, plums, candies and various 
other dainties. Close by us is a band of musicians 
with stringed instruments, who charm us with their 
delightful melodies. Their music is superior to that 
which greets the ear in the streets of Philadelphia. 
In truth, in Holland and Germany, one rarely hears 
anything but good music from these bands of itin- 
erant players, and operatic selections of the higher 
class are frequently heard at the popular beer 
gardens of these countries. 

A short distance off are the wagons of a gypsy 
encampment, and the quick witted members of 
these roving tribes gain a livelihood by fortune tell- 
ing. We are told that they are always to be found 
here during the summer season, and are quite 
popular among the young and the credulous, who 
willingly exchange their silver for a glimpse into the 
future, and the wonderful predictions of fame and 
fortune made by these glib tongued southerners. 
Their gay dresses, in some of which are displayed 
all the colors of the rainbow, are beautiful in effect: 
and now I discover in one of the great hooded 
chairs a lady artist, with a well covered canvas, 
upon which she is painting the portrait of a hand- 
some gypsy girl, while the wagons and the sea 
form a beautiful background. I enter into conver- 



144 Odd Bits of Travel 

sation with her, and learn that she is from Amster- 
dam, and is filled with enthusiasm for the charms 
of this country. She says: " If one will but open 
his eyes, he will see delightful pictures in every 
corner of the province." And it is true. Nature 
has indeed been lavish in her gifts to Holland. 
Here are scenes and subjects unlimited in number, 
and indescribably attractive. 

The citizens of Amsterdam are most kind and 
hospitable. As an instance of their cordiality I 
mention a sumptuous banquet given in our honor 

by a townsman Mr. L , who says we must not 

return home without a glimpse of the social life of 
the city. The banquet is held at the largest and 
most popular banqueting hall (Maison Couturier), 
and besides our host and his family, a few intimate 
friends and some young people are present. At the 
appointed hour we are driven to a spacious and 
handsome building, and are conducted to a beauti- 
ful apartment with most attractive surroundings. 
The first floor of this hall is elegantly furnished, and 
lit by electric lights. Flowers, palms, and other 
tropical plants adorn the halls and rooms. After a 
cordial welcome from our host, we are led to the 
banqueting hall, where we are dazzled by the light 
and beauty around us, and delighted by the artistic 



A City of Many Islands 145 

effect. Covers are laid for sixteen guests. Flowers, 
plants and fruits are picturesquely arranged, and 
even the electric lights exhibit various glowing de- 
signs. The feast is prepared under the direction of 
an experienced chef, and here we speedily become 
aware that the city of Amsterdam is not one whit 
behind the great centres of the world in this line of 
achievement. After many toasts to Amsterdam and 
its people have been responded to, the hospitalities 
are concluded with one to "America and its beauti- 
ful women," and we take our departure after three 
hours most delightfully spent in social intercourse 
with our friends. Upon this occasion four lan- 
guages, French, Dutch, German and English are 
fluently spoken. 



Excursions to Broek and 
the Island of Marken. 



Excursions to Broek and the Island of Marken* 

A Charming Journey — Fellow-Passengers — National Costumes — 
The Children — A Lovely Landscape — Holstein Cattle — 
Windmills — Irrigation — Farmers — A Typical Dutch Village — 
Washing-Day — The Red, White and Blue — Suppose a Bull 
Should Appear — A Brilliant Picture — Drawing the Canal 
Boat — Honesty and Cleanliness — A Thrifty and Industrious 
People — Farming and Cheesemaking — As Evening Falls — 
Scenes for an Artist — Dead Cities of Holland — Monnikendam 
— Behind the Age — City Lamps — Houses and People — The 
Island of Marken — An Isolated Wonderland — First Impres- 
sions — Rare Holidays — The Family Doctor — Absence of the 
Men — The Fishing — Healthy and Industrious population — 
The Women of Marken— Pretty Girls— They Will not be 
Taken — A Valuable Experience — Photographs, 

BEAUTIFUL trip is that to Broek. We take 
the small steamer that lies in the river a 
short distance from our hotel, the Amstel, 
and after a sail of three-quarters of an 
hour, are landed at an insignificant station on the 
opposite shore. Here a little car with bare wooden 
seats running lengthwise, and a queer looking engine 
waits for passengers from the boat. And now we 
ride through a picturesque farming country, passing 
numerous small stations. This road terminates at 

149 




i^o Odd Bits of Travel 

Edam, but we do not go that far. Our fellow-pas- 
sengers are most interesting. Many of the women 
wear their gold heirlooms with the finely embroid- 
ered caps which are so quaint and becoming, and 
all wear the customary wooden shoes. 

The men have rugged brown faces, and sinewy 
arms: some of them wear the heavy wooden shoes, 
others slippers, while a number are barefooted. 
How they all stare at us, and it is just as impossible , 
for us to withdraw our eyes from them. We are 
novel sights to each other. I wonder what they 
think of our appearance. Their faces are impassive, 
but ours must surely express wonder, admiration 
and a strong desire on the part of one at least, to 
capture these studies in color and figure that sur- 
round us on every side. 

The children, with their rosy cheeks and round 
healthy forms, seem merry and happy, although 
none of them are sociable or talkative with us. They 
look at us in amazement. This is a delightful ride 
over a smooth velvety road, with rich pasture land 
on either side. Now we pass great dikes which 
hold back the waters from these fertile fields; and 
now short canals with their little boats, on which 
perhaps the Dutch vrow in her snowy cap and gold 
headdress is seated beside her husband who smokes 




The flat landscape is varied by herds of cattle." {See page /jj.) 



Excursions to Broek. 153 

his pipe with a meditative air. The flat landscape 
is varied by innumerable herds of cattle, principally of 
Holstein breed, with the great white bands encircling 
the bodies, which reminds me of the story of the 
Yankee who used this band for a foundation upon 
which to paint his sign : "The finest milk and cream 
in the world within. Price two cents per quart." 

Hundreds of windmills may be seen with their 
long wings gracefully moving at the touch of a 
gentle breeze, in perfect harmony with the sur- 
rounding landscape. These mills have been used 
for many centuries in Holland, which is their mother 
country, and serve for draining the land, or for 
manufacturing purposes. They are placed upon a 
substantial foundation of brick or stone, and their 
enormous sails describe a circle of over a hundred 
feet in diameter: some run saws that cut through 
logs of great thickness, while others are huge grain 
mills. The smaller windmills are made of wood 
like those seen in some portions of our own country. 
The system of irrigation by means of windmills is 
very complete in Holland, thus it is that we see 
everywhere such beautiful fertile fields. Many of 
the farms in this locality employ three or four, and 
even more windmills for this purpose. 

We see many farmers, with their wives and 



154 O^d ^i<^s of Travel 

children, working in the fields, and they all stop for 
an instant as our train passes, to shout a merry 
greeting. Here a milkmaid in her snowy cap passes 
along the road. Flocks of sheep stand in the shadow 
of the trees, and armies of quacking ducks emerge 
from a marshy pool and spread themselves across 
the green. 

The average speed of our antediluvian express is 
from five to seven miles an hour, but it is perfectly 
satisfactory to these deliberate people ; and as to 
ourselves, we are enjoying everything too much 
to wish it shortened by one minute. We ar- 
rive, however, at Broek, which is celebrated as one 
of the cleanest towns in the world. It contains 
about sixteen hundred inhabitants, and its narrow 
streets are paved with yellow bricks which are kept 
scrupulously clean. The small frame houses have 
tiled roofs, and with their flower gardens, present 
an orderly appearance. The whole atmosphere of 
the place is one of primitive simplicity. Some of 
the buildings are painted white, some green, and 
others of a variety of hues. They all wear an in- 
describable air of repose: and it is said that the 
front doors are not opened from the beginning to 
the end of the year, except on the occasion of a 
wedding or a funeral. The gardens are veritable 




" Most of the houses have a canal at the back." {See page 7,-7.) 



Excursions to Broek 157 

curiosities, with their old-fashioned flower-beds, 
and box-bushes cut into various fantastic shapes, 
and all so diminutive that one feels as though he has 
fallen upon an animated edition of the Noah's Ark 
of his childish days. 

Most of the houses have a canal or small stream 
at the back, and close by, upon a washing-day, the 
garments of the family may be seen flying in the 
breeze, displaying to the stranger the prevailing 
colors of the community, which are red, white and 
blue. Red predominates, however, since red flan- 
nel is universally worn by the middle and lower 
classes in Holland. I think of the fine bull which 
we saw but a short time ago, grazing so peacefully 
in the meadow, and wonder what effect this expos- 
ure of tantalizing color would have upon his equa- 
nimity. Should he be let loose among the back 
gardens of Broek upon a washing-day, the order 
of this immaculate village would certainly receive a 
shock. For once in the history of the place, things 
would be topsy-turvy, and the excitement would 
doubtless surpass anything previously seen in this 
peaceful town. 

What beautiful and picturesque combinations are 
here! The varying shades of green and blue, min- 
gled with harmonious tints of yellow, produce a 



158 Odd Bits of Travel 

scene for the impressionist, while the effect is en- 
hanced by the streams and canals which wind in 
and out with many a turn and twist, apparently for 
the sole purpose of adding to the attraction of this 
quaint and unique locality. 

Occasionally we see a canal boat of larger size 
drawn by a buxom Dutch maiden and her brother; 
or not infrequently it is the old man and his wife, 
and sometimes the entire family all strenuously tug- 
ging the stout rope which is securely fastened to 
the bow of the boat, while the dilapidated old craft, 
laden with merchandise or produce creaks slowly 
on its way, breaking the placid surface of the wa- 
ter with a soft musical plash. 

Honesty and truthfulness are unmistakably im- 
pressed upon the faces of all whom we meet in this 
section. The people hereabouts do not possess the 
shrewd business capacity of our Wall Street bro- 
kers, but they are mild and pleasant, with a whole- 
some appearance of health and good appetite. 
They are individually as clean and orderly as is their 
village. Water is as cheap here as in America, but 
in this place there seems to be an extravagance in 
the use of it which far exceeds that of the same 
class in our country. 

There are no beggars or idlers here. The people 



Excursions to Broek 159 

are so thrifty and industrious that no portion of the 
day is wasted. Every one seems to have an ap- 
pointed task, even the small children, whom we 
see feeding the ducks and pigs. AH are engaged in 
some useful occupation. 

Farming and cheesemaking are the principal in- 
dustries, although other branches of business, such 
as stock-raising, fishing, boat-making, and the 
manufacture of wooden shoes, are carried on to 
some extent. 

Our visit to the village naturally attracts some at- 
tention, as foreigners are rarely seen in these out of 
the way corners. 

As evening steals upon us, the scene grows inde- 
scribably lovely, for the sun in his descent illumines 
the whole landscape with vivid gleams of many 
colors. The blue stream which finds its outlet in 
the larger river, changes its sombre hue to one of 
dazzling gold, which throws out rich reflections of 
clouds and foliage. A fairy-like transformation 
seems to have taken place in the streets and houses; 
and, as we leave the village and the shades of night 
fall about us, my thoughts are with the artist, the 
photographer, the impressionist, who would feel 
the most exquisite delight in such an opportunity; 
for he who could do justice to this landscape either 



i6o Odd Bits of Travel 

with brush or camera, would produce a picture 
worthy of place among the noblest works of art. 

We have heard so much of the "Dead cities of 
Holland," and especially of the secluded life on the 
island of Marken, that we determine to see for our- 
selves what this term really signifies. On our way 
thither, we pass through the old town of Monniken- 
dam, in which we behold many strange and curi- 
ous sights. People and buildings impress us with 
the idea that "Father Time" has forgotten this 
place altogether in his rounds of cutting down and 
making place for newcomers. The ancient and 
picturesque houses look as though coeval with Time 
himself; but in truth they are only mediaeval; it is 
the people who have stood still. The present age 
has no place in their lives. 

The population of the town numbers about 
twenty-three hundred, and this is largely made up 
of children, judging from the appearance of the 
streets. The main street is wide and attractive, but 
the side streets are narrow, and all are paved with 
hard bricks placed edgewise. At night the town is 
lighted by lamps balanced upon rude posts: coal is 
generally used for fuel, but some of the residents 
use gasoline, which also serves for light. The 
houses are primitive in construction, and the people 




" The blue stream tiiuU Us ouilet in the rivec." i^See J>age /j'y.) 



Excursions to Broek 163 

seem odd and inquisitive, but simple and econom- 
ical in dress and habit. As we expect to return in 
a short time, we direct our course without delay to 
the Island of Marken. 

A good-sized yacht lies at anchor in the Zuyder Zee, 
beside the banks of Monnikendam. The captain is 
a full-blooded " Markenite," born and bred on the 
island. Having made arrangements with him, we 
go on board and are soon on our way to the strange 
city: our hearts beat more quickly, and all eyes are 
eagerly strained toward it, when the distant island 
appears in the direction of our yacht's bow. After 
an hour's sail, we come to anchor in the harbor of 
this secluded wonderland. As we approach the 
town, the view from our boat seems to justify the 
title which has been given to it of "the Dead City." 
It lies away from everything and everybody, and 
save the deep sea which surrounds it, and which 
supplies its inhabitants with food, the island of 
Marken has for centuries known no association out- 
side its own boundaries. 

No news is carried to or from this isolated region. 
At rare intervals an islander, by temperament more 
adventurous or enterprising than his fellows, makes 
the daring undertaking of a visit to Monnikendam, 
or the bolder flight to Amsterdam, although there 



164 Odd Bits of Travel 

are but few instances on record of such a reckless 
proceeding as the last. The place has a population 
of about thirteen hundred souls, and one may form 
an idea of the health of its inhabitants from the fact 
that one doctor, without an assistant, is the family 
physician for all the people on the island, and we 
are told that calls upon his professional attention are 
not sufficiently frequent to keep the cobwebs from 
forming on his medicine chest. 

The Dutch language is spoken here, and it is so 
rare to find any one who understands English, that 
it is necessary to bring an interpreter as well as 
guide in visiting this secluded spot. The inhabitants 
look upon us as though we have dropped from the 
clouds, or sprung suddenly out of the earth. It is 
unfortunate that we have come here on Monday, for 
on this day the men of the island go off in their 
fishing boats, and do not return till Saturday night. 
Only the old and crippled are left with the women 
and children. Sunday is the one day in the week 
which the men may spend with their wives and 
sweethearts. Fishing is the sole means of sub- 
sistence here. The native inhabitants are industrious 
and economical, but of a low type of intellect, 
rarely if ever displaying interest in literary attain- 
ments. Health and good appetites seem to be their 




"All persuasions accomplish naught." [See />age i68.) 



Excursions to Broek 167 

chief characteristics, and a more law-abiding, inno- 
cent and virtuous people it would be difficult to 
find. The women are large, muscular and well 
shaped, and appear fully able to protect and care 
for their households in the absence of the men. 

I am quite anxious to capture, by camera, not by 
force of arms, some of these rare types of strength 
and beauty, and observing too pretty young girls 
standing in the doorway of one of the houses, both 
perfect specimens of physical health, I think this an 
opportunity not to be neglected. What a fine 
picture they present with their erect forms, their 
firm round arms, rosy cheeks and bright eyes! 
They are well proportioned, and looking at their 
smiling faces one can readily understand that a phy- 
sician in a locality whose residents are represented 
by such glowing life as that which is now before 
me, may easily find time to be absent from his 
duties a year or two. 

Fired with enthusiasm, I approach the girls who 
are talking to a couple of old women, and am about 
to make a " snap shot " of the group, when sud- 
denly perceiving my intention, they fly into the 
house like frightened deer, to the amusement of the 
old women, and the grief of the writer. Deter- 
mined not to be outdone, for now this picture be- 



i68 Odd Bits of Travel 

yond all others is the desire of my heart, I enter the 
house and learn that the young damsels have sought 
refuge in the loft, and are hiding, ostrich like, with 
their heads buried in a mass of clothing. All my 
persuasions, aided by those of the older women, 
accomplish nought, even the liberal offer of silver 
guilders is not sufficient to move these obdurate 
maids, and I am obliged to relinquish my desire. 
However, I have made a valuable discovery, and 
that is that it is better under some circumstances not 
to ask for the privilege, but to resort to strategy. I 
request one or more of our party to engage the pro- 
posed subject in conversation, while I retire to a 
suitable distance with my camera, focus the group, 
then fire away. This plan succeeds admirably, and 
my collection increases steadily and satisfactorily. 

However, upon better acquaintance with the 
townspeople and the repeated assurances of our 
skipper, who speaks some English, that our pur- 
pose is an innocent one, we are allowed to photo- 
graph the whole town freely, and all its valuable 
possessions. Occasionally a guilder slipped quietly 
into the hand of one of the older women opens a 
new vein of good fortune, for they insist that "the 
gentleman shall be allowed to take the picture;" 
whether it be an old-fashioned interior with its 




One old woman is fascinated with the camera." {See page i-jt.) 



Excursions to Broek 171 

quaint belongings, or a pretty maid too shy to hold 
her head up properly. One old woman is so fas- 
cinated with the camera that she asks me to take 
picture after picture of her homely wrinkled coun- 
tenance. At first 1 do so to her extreme delight, 
but finally I only pretend to take her picture, and 
the last bewildering poses and bewitching smiles 
are all wasted upon an unimpressionable plate. 



The Ancient Town 

of Monnikendam. 




We walk along the narrow streets." [See page 177.) 



The Ancient Town of Monnikendam* 

Marken Homes — Beds in the Wall — Family Heirlooms — An An- 
cient Clock — Precious Treasures — Quaint Customs — Betrothed 
Couples — The Hotel — Its Interior — A Lack of Patrons — Cos- 
tumes of a Bygone Age — Farewell to Marken — Remote Dis- 
tricts — Monnikendam — Ancient Houses — Hotel de Posthoorn 
— The Postman of the Past — A Difficult Stairway — We Stroll 
about the Town — Our Retinue — In Front of the Hotel — Such 
Curious Children — Supper — We Visit the Shops — Pantomime 
— A Novel Experience — They Cannot Understand — No 
Candles — We Attract a Crowd — The Clothing Store — A 
Marken Suit — " Too High " — Bargaining — A Stranger to the 
Rescue. 

E walk along the narrow streets, some of 
which are paved with little footways, 
and now and then visit one of the 
whitewashed frame houses with their 
red tiled roofs. These houses are built after one 
pattern, and resemble each other so closely in their 
crude architecture, that a stranger might easily make 
a mistake, and enter the wrong door, without hav- 
ing previously taken anything stronger than a glass 
of water. The interior consists of four small rooms, 
which are kept scrupulously clean and orderly. 
One of these is used as a living-room, and one as 

177 




178 Odd Bits of Travel 

dining-room and kitchen. The beds of the family 
are simply close, dark recesses in the wall, in which 
there are bunks or shelves, and on these the mat- 
tresses and bed clothing are placed, the occupants 
mounting by means of wooden steps to this ill- 
ventilated and most uninviting resting-place. We 
shudder as we glance into these dismal closets, and 
feel a touch of nightmare at the thought of sleeping 
in one of them. 

In every house there seems to be reserved a spe- 
cial apartment, as a storage-place for the family 
heirlooms, and here are preserved articles which 
have been handed down from generation to genera- 
tion for centuries. Dolls of various primitive shapes, 
broken and torn, with black, dusty clothing; clocks 
long since arrested in their career by age or acci- 
dent; chairs of rude manufacture, with perhaps a 
broken leg or back; watches and jewelry of ancient 
design; odd furniture and pieces of china, besides 
other relics which would be useful only in an exhi- 
bition of the antique. All these things are sacred 
in the eyes of their owners, who would as soon 
think of parting with one of their children as of 
allowing one of these treasures to pass out of the 
family. 

At one of the houses I see stored among the heir- 



Ancient Town of Monnikendam 179 

looms a clock, which the owner informs me has 
been in the family for two hundred and fifty years. 
I do not doubt the assertion, for it looks as though 
the dust of a thousand years has silently but stead- 
ily accumulated upon its venerable face. I am 
about with my handkerchief to brush off some of 
this precious dust, in order to see the wood and 
brass in their peculiar coloring and design, but am 
quietly stopped by the hand of my host. 

There is a noticeable rivalry between the different 
families in regard to these treasures which are 
placed carefully away, as if too sacred for the light 
of day, and are shown to the visitor much as the 
guide employed in the mint allows one to touch a 
piece of gold or silver in the early process of coin- 
age. Each family tries to outdo the others in its 
collection, and in the ancient appearance of the 
hoard. It is amusing to watch their faces, when 
exhibiting the wonders: they seem very uneasy if 
the stranger offers to touch one of the pieces, as 
though in terror lest it should thus lose some of 
those precious particles which enhance its value. 

At another house I am allowed, as a great favor, 
to examine one of the dolls, and really the anxiety 
shown until the owner has placed it once more in 
its place in his collection is ludicrous. The most 



i8o Odd Bits of Travel 

delicate human being, or a piece of frail egg-shell 
china could not be more tenderly handled. 

These people are quite as quaint in appearance 
as in their customs. The old-time costume of 
the island is worn as in other parts of Holland, 
but here there is an intensity of ancientness, if I 
may use the expression, which must be seen in 
order to be fully appreciated. They really seem 
the remnants of a dead era, and in all their 
ways display a want of experience of the out- 
side world, a lack of that perception which 
the men and women of to-day seem to inhale 
with the very atmosphere, which is truly astonish- 
ing. The marriage and betrothal customs are es- 
pecially peculiar. We learn that an engaged couple 
cannot wed until five years have elapsed since the 
announcement of the betrothal; and should a death 
occur in either family in the meantime, it is con- 
sidered such an ill omen that the engagement is 
broken off altogether: at the end of a year, how- 
ever, a new engagement may be entered into, and 
after a second long period of waiting the wedding 
is consummated. 

There are many rigid rules of etiquette connected 
with these engagements; for instance: should the 
young lover, upon each meeting, neglect to impress 




♦' Sheep, grazing upon the green pasture lands, form a homelike scene." 

[See page J Ss.) 



Ancient Town of Monnikendam 183 

a kiss upon the cheek of every member of the fam- 
ily of his fiancee, the contract is annulled. One 
can readily believe almost any statement regarding 
these strange people who seem like a peculiar race 
stranded upon a desert island. Still from ocular 
demonstration, we feel very certain that notwith- 
standing these stringent rules, there is no lack of 
weddings among the young people, for there is an 
overwhelming number of children upon the island. 
Marken boasts of a hotel, and the owner and 
landlord tells us as he stands proudly upon its 
stoop, that this bold enterprise issued from his fer- 
tile brain, and that he is looking for a rich return 
for his venture. I respond with as much enthu- 
siasm as I can gather upon this occasion, but fear 
he would receive but cold comfort from the true 
state of my mind on the subject. The building 
consists of six rooms which he pronounces quite 
modern. On the lower floor are a kitchen, ten feet 
by ten, and a dining-room, twelve by fourteen, 
which also serves as a barroom, sitting-room and 
smoking den, all rolled into one. Here the guests 
are supposed to reach the acme of ease and com- 
fort. A bare wooden table and six chairs comprise 
the furniture of the room, and there is nothing else 
visible save the snowy muslin curtains which hang 



184 Odd Bits of Travel 

at the windows. Upstairs are three bedrooms, 
scantily furnished; here too the windows are cur- 
tained. The freshness of these rooms and their 
surroundings gives us the impression that they have 
never been occupied since the erection of the hotel 
a year ago, by any one of greater importance than 
the myriads of flies and mosquitoes which cling in 
lazy groups to the walls and ceilings. My sym- 
pathy goes out to these ignorant creatures who do 
not seem to have strength enough to get away, and 
seek their nourishment in other quarters. 

We find tolerably comfortable accommodations 
here, and view things very philosophically on ac- 
count of the curious and interesting life by which 
we are surrounded. The men and women in their 
odd costumes are rare pictures. The clothing worn 
here is of a style worn hundreds of years ago, and 
there is no consciousness on the part of its wearers 
that there is anything unusual in its appearance. 
"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," 
and it is more than probable that they will continue 
to wear this antediluvian garb for centuries to 
come. 

Much of the washing is done in the little canal 
which flows through the town, and this is easily 
accomplished, as linen is not worn to any great ex- 



Ancient Town of Monnikendam 185 

tent, as in other places, and the coarse homespun 
garments are cleansed by a very simple process. 

Sheep, grazing upon many of the green pasture 
lands, form a homelike, peaceful scene which is very 
attractive. The air is fresh, yet balmy, imparting 
tone and vigor to the sturdy natives. 

At last we bid adieu to this stationary spot upon 
the earth's surface, wondering if an earthquake or 
any other startling event will ever happen here to 
rouse it from its lethargy, and compel it to take its 
place in the march of the ages. If not, it will re- 
main as of old, a boon to the artist, an infinite 
source from which he may draw quaint, ideal and 
most original studies of a people and an era whose 
counterpart has long since vanished from our 
everyday world. 

In our travels in the northern portion of Holland, 
and away from the larger cities, as Amsterdam and 
Rotterdam, which are more visited by tourists, we 
find that our letters of credit extend over an aston- 
ishing space of time, for a little money goes a long 
way among these people. The regions seem to be 
too remote for the regular tourist, and as there is no 
great influx of capital from that source, there is no 
inducement for the people to change their simple 
and primitive mode of living, hence honesty, fru- 



i86 Odd Bits of Travel 

gality and contentment reign here, and the visitor 
may enjoy to its full extent, the beautiful country 
and the pure, innocent life of its inhabitants. 

The quaint and simple town of Monnikendam 
lies some fifteen or sixteen miles north of Amster- 
dam, and here is a rich and rare scene of ancient 
associations. Eyes, ears and brain are almost be- 
wildered by the exquisite strangeness of our sur- 
roundings. Here are houses with the date of their 
birth inscribed over the doorways, and the odd de- 
signs of bygone centuries still clinging to thei» 
walls. 

These ancient dates and the rich beauty of thesP 
aged tenements impress us with a feeling of awe, 
and we walk softly as we pass the hallowed ground 
upon which so many lives have risen, passed theif 
little day, then vanished to make place for the next 
players. Of the two hotels which the town sup- 
ports, we choose the oldest, the Hotel de Posthoorn^, 
which derives its name from the fact that at an 
early date the building was used as a post office 
station. In those days the postman carried a horn, 
which he blew when approaching a station, as a 
notice to the townfolk to have their mail ready for 
collection, that he might not be detained, as his 
route was long and wearisome. 








" Hotel de I'osthooni." {See page iSb.) 



Ancient Town of Monnikendam 189 

We are conducted to the second floor of the hotel 
by a steep and narrow stairway, which requires 
much ingenuity in the ascent, as the steps are con- 
structed at such a peculiar angle that it is difficult 
to balance one's self upon them. We reach the top 
as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, 
and find two pleasant communicating rooms over- 
looking the main street. Rooms, beds and all our 
surroundings are wonderfully clean, and filled with 
an atmosphere of the past, which is very charming. 
The rates charged here are seven dollars a week for 
each person, and this includes meals and attend- 
ance: the latter simply a pleasant fiction, with no 
meaning whatever. 

The sheets upon our beds are of homespun linen 
of good quality, but emitting such an odor of an- 
tiquity, that there is no doubt whatever in our 
minds that they are heirlooms of many generations, 
and we wish that this genuine, ancient and unpleas- 
ant smell could be scattered abroad, or adulterated 
in some way, even to the extent of a pair of mod- 
ern sheets, for concentrated age is more attractive 
in sights than in odors. 

Our hotel bears the date 1697 upon a fancifully 
carved tablet above the middle window, but the 
Stadhuis Tower is still older, dating back to 1592. 



190 



Odd Bits of Travel 



The proprietor, his wife and daughter are pleasant, 
hospitable people, who make our stay with them, 
both comfortable and enjoyable. Before supper we 
stroll about the town, which consists of a main or 
central avenue, with small narrow streets diverging 
from it. As we walk along, a little crowd, com- 
posed chiefly of children, follows us closely. 
These young people stare at us, and laugh as 
though we are a freshly imported menagerie. On 
our return, we sit in front of the hotel where 
some chairs and small tables are placed for the con- 
venience of those who wish to rest and sip their 
glass of beer or genuine Holland gin in the open. 
The favorite beverages in Holland are beer, porter 
and gin, the latter of an excellent quality, and gen- 
uinely "old." 

We are soon surrounded by a group of children, 
who watch our motions and by words and gestures 
freely express their wonder and amusement at the 
odd-looking stranger people. They seem greatly 
surprised that we do not understand their language: 
not even such simple phrases as "Goeden avond," 
(Good-evening), or "Ja," (Yes), and "Nee," 
(No). When I make them understand that in 
English yes and no are the same as their ja and 
nee, they laugh immoderately, and repeat in their 



Ancient Town of Monnikedam 191 

own broad accents, yes and no, as if greatly 
amused. 

After supper, which consists of cold fish, coffee, 
cheese, boiled potatoes and tea with a private nip 
of the real ancient Holland gin, we walk out again 
without a guide, to do some shopping. We have 
a funny experience, as we are compelled to resort 
to pantomime in making the various purchases. 
Entering a " general " store in search of candles, we 
at first ask for them in English: the good-natured 
shopwoman smiles and shakes her head. I repeat 
the word " candles," at the same time going through 
the motion of striking a match on the counter, and 
holding it up to the end of my forefinger. This 
strange proceeding attracts the attention of a young 
man and woman, who draw near the counter, fol- 
lowed by several other members of the family, but 
I cannot make them comprehend. We then try the 
French language, but this also proves a failure, so 
we are obliged to depart without our candles, al- 
though I am confident they have them somewhere 
in the store. 

Scene after scene of this kind is gone through 
with in the different shops, and now our curious 
actions have attracted a large crowd of people who 
follow close at our heels, wondering what we will 



192 Odd Bits of Travel 

do next, and thinking, no doubt, tliat we are a very 
good kind of free show. Such strange beings rarely 
visit their isolated town, and they are certainly en- 
joying their opportunity to its full extent. When 
we stop to look into a shop-window, they stop too, 
and follow our example like very shadows. The 
expression of wonder and merriment depicted on 
the countenances of both young and old is a fine 
study for an artist. 

As we saunter leisurely along, we espy a clothing 
store, which we enter, and find half-a-dozen men 
lounging about with long clay pipes in their mouths, 
and their hands in the pockets of their baggy 
trousers. Their faces wear a peaceful, contented 
expression, which changes to a look of surprise as 
we approach them, and they scan our attire, as 
something wholly different from anything to which 
they are accustomed. The gaping throng outside 
besieges the doorway. As the men still gaze curi- 
ously at us, 1 draw near the one who appears to be 
the proprietor of the establishment, and in panto- 
mime, aided by English, interspersed with a little 
French, ask for a Marken suit of clothes. The man 
laughs and looks perplexed; his companions also 
shake their heads in token that they do not under- 
stand. With serious countenances and widely- 




De Iloollstraat, Monnikendam." {See page igoi 



Ancient Town of Monnikedam 195 

opened eyes, they follow the motions of my lips 
and hands. Uttering slowly the words: " Marken 
suit," I point to my own trousers, coat and vest. 
Their eyes follow my hands, first to my trousers, 
then to my coat and vest. It is a difficult position ; 
but what a treat to watch their puzzled counte- 
nances, now smiling, now with a look of actual 
pain in their efforts to understand. 

At last my perseverance and their attention are 
rewarded, and the storekeeper takes from a shelf 
a dusty bundle, and carefully unfolds it. Within 
the bundle is a Marken suit: yes, the very kind I 
wish to possess, an entire woman's dress. I am 
anxious to purchase it at any reasonable figure. 
The garment is passed to us for inspection. We 
nod in indication that it is just what we desire. 
Now for the tug of war; the price. "Combien? 
Combien ? " Finally thirty guilders is named as the 
price set upon the dress. We motion, "Too high," 
and I point to the ceiling. The six weary men all 
look up in the direction of my finger: they smile, 
and think it is a good joke, and look at me as 
though saying: "What next?" They laugh 
heartily at my vain endeavors. Alas! How can 
I make them understand? "Fifteen guilders," I 
say. The proprietor seems to understand. "Nee. 



196 Odd Bits of Travel 

Nee. Ik kan het niet doen." (No. No. I cannot 
do it.) 

After long deliberation, still holding the cherished 
suit in his hands, he turns to his companions, and 
seems to ask their opinion. Several shake their 
heads and utter: "Nee. Nee," others say: "Ja. 
Ja." One suggests twenty-five guilders as the 
price; another twenty guilders. The bargaining 
goes on without drawing any nearer to a conclusion, 
when to our relief a gentleman enters the shop who 
understands the language of these people. He has 
learned from the outsiders that some Americans are 
in the store trying to buy a suit of clothes. Through 
the kindness of this stranger, matters are speedily 
adjusted, and the sale effected, as he speaks both 
Dutch and English fluently. We purchase the com- 
plete suit for fifteen guilders, or about six dollars in 
the currency of the United States. 

These suits are rarely made for sale, but only 
when needed for immediate use. The natives of 
the island make them for personal wear, or for each 
other. Every man and woman generally owns two 
suits: one to wear every day, and one for Sundays. 

As we move toward the door to take our de- 
parture, after spending three-quarters of an hour 
over this transaction, we perceive that the throng 



Ancient Town of Monnikedam 197 

around the door has increased in numbers. What 
an assemblage! And we are the curiosities. I 
count them, and find there are thirty men, women 
and children, all full of excitement at the presence 
of strangers in Monnikendam. One young girl is 
so shy and timid, that as we advance toward her on 
our way out, she starts and runs hurriedly away, 
and gazes at us from a distance of some twenty 
feet, as though we are dangerous animals. 

We make several other purchases; partly because 
we desire the articles, but chiefly on account of our 
enjoyment of this novel mode of shopping. 







" There is a young man whose walk is all his own." i^See page 211.) 



old Customs and 

Quaint Pictures. 




" The streets and sidewalks are kept scrupulously clean." I See page 211.) 



Old Customs and Quaint Pictures* 

Segars and Tobacco — Row Boats — " Goeden Morgen " — The 
Zuyder Zee — By Candle Light — Total Darkness — The Town 
by Night — Women and Girls — Shoes and Stockings — The 
Shuffling Man — Streets and Sidewalks — The Town Crier — 
The Daily News — A Message to the People — Draught Dogs 
— Milkmaids — The Barber Shop — Drug Stores — " Horretje " 
— A Street Auction — Selling Curios — They Leave their Shoes 
at the Door— An Old Grist Mill— The Holland Draught Girl. 



N Holland, segars and tobacco of very good 
quality are sold at low prices: it is not un- 
common to buy two segars for one cent 
(United States currency) and should you be 
detected smoking an article costing more than a 
penny, you are immediately stamped as a wealthy 
and extravagant personage. This reputation is 
easily acquired in a town of such thrifty habits as 
Monnikendam, and here my fondness for a good 
smoke lays me open to both charges. 

A row boat may be hired for twenty cents a day, 
if you do your own rowing; with a man to row, 
the charge is forty cents. We find it convenient to 
hire a man, who also serves as guide and inter- 
preter, and who rows us to many lovely nooks and 

205 



2o6 Odd Bits of Travel 

out-of-the-way spots, which we would otherwise 
miss seeing. 

The inhabitants of the town are kind and hos- 
pitable, and we are charmed with their good, 
honest countenances. We are always greeted with 
a pleasant "Goeden morgen," or "Goeden avond," 
or it maybe: "Hoe staat het leven?" (How are 
you ? ), when we pass them on the street. 

The country about here is principally farm land, 
with rich and abundant pasturage. A short distance 
from us is the placid Zuyder Zee, with its shining 
waters stretching eastward for miles. From its 
picturesque banks may be seen boats of every size 
and kind, from the tiniest row boat to craft of many 
tons' burden, and it is interesting to observe from 
this point the busy life upon the water, as produce, 
farm implements and merchandise are carried to 
and fro. 

As I sit writing in my room, by the light of a 
homemade candle, I now and then pause in my 
occupation to look around with an ever increasing 
wonder, at the dark old furniture over which the 
light casts a ghostly gleam. The spirit of the past 
seems lurking in the corners, with their long for- 
gotten history, and around yonder ancient cupboard 
and brass trimmed chest of drawers. I can almost 




" Tlie wliole place is a succe,ssi'>ii iiiHuanit and picturesque liouses.'' 

(^See page 2/6.) 



Old Customs and Quaint Pictures 209 

feel upon my shoulder the touch of the hand which 
has carried this quaint old candlestick in those olden 
days, and in imagination, hear the rustle of her 
gown as she stands behind me waiting for her own. 
It is ten o'clock, and I walk to the window and 
draw aside the curtain, curious to see the life that is 
abroad in the town at this hour. To my astonish- 
ment there are no signs of life of any kind. The 
town lies in total darkness. There is not a glimmer 
of light anywhere, save the dim glow from a lantern 
dangling carelessly by the side of a pedestrian who 
moves slowly and quietly along the sidewalk. 
There is no other evidence of any living thing. 
Even the frogs and crickets, which enliven a night 
scene at home, are not heard here. Dead silence 
prevails, while 

" Night, sable goddess, from her ebon throne, 
In rayless majesty now stretches forth 
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world." 

Even the stars are slumbering, or their sparkle has 
been engulfed by this all-devouring darkness. The 
light of my candle seems out of harmony with the 
peaceful repose around me: with a half-guilty feel- 
ing I extinguish it, and wrapping myself in sheets 
of Holland linen, am soon slumbering with the rest 
of the world. 



210 Odd Bits of Travel 

In the morning, when seated at the breakfast 
table, my first question to our host is as to the rea- 
son for such all-pervading darkness, and the ab- 
sence of the townspeople from the streets at night. 
He tells me that it is so rare for any one to be abroad 
after nine o'clock in the evening, that the street 
lamps, of which there are but few, are never 
lighted. At ten o'clock every one is supposed to 
be at home and in bed. 

The women and girls of this and the neighboring 
towns are thrifty and industrious. When resting 
after their daily labors, whether at noon or in the 
evening, they will invariably take from their deep 
side-pockets a ball of thread or yarn, and with the 
short knitting needle, or the long ones of steel, con- 
tinue their work on an unfinished stocking, cap or 
other article of wearing apparel. 

The prevailing foot-covering for men, women 
and children is a heavy woolen stocking; this fits 
the foot snugly, and protects it from the hardness 
of the clumsy wooden shoe or clog as it is called. 
These shoes are carved from a single block of wood : 
when they are worn and shabby they are painted 
black, and a strap is placed across the instep. They 
are of all sizes, but only one style or pattern. In 
the larger cities, however, such as Rotterdam, one 



Old Customs and Ouaint Pictures 2 1 1 

can obtain from the manufacturers a painted wooden 
shoe, with buttons and stitches carved upon it as 
ornaments. But this variation is found only in 
men's shoes. In Holland the ordinary American 
slipper is frequently worn by both men and women. 
The clatter of the wooden shoes is at first an un- 
pleasant sound, especially when several persons are 
walking together, but the ear soon becomes accus- 
tomed to it, as to all other odd noises. There is a 
young man in this place, who walks with a peculiar 
shuffle, all his own. He is so strange looking alto- 
gether that I snap my camera on him one day as he 
innocently passes by me. The peculiar sound of his 
walk has taught me to know that he is coming long 
before his figure is visible. I sometimes feel like 
telling him in the words of Byron, that 

" He has no singing education, 
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow." 

The streets and sidewalks are kept scrupulously 
clean, as the women of each household scrub not 
only their sidewalks, but half-way across the street 
in front of their dwellings. One may thus imagine 
what a charming and inviting place this is for the 
pedestrian. 

in this peaceful town where the golden rule is not 
simply a precept to frame and hang upon the wall, 



212 Odd Bits of Travel 

it is not necessary to employ officials with such high 
sounding but meaningless titles as " Street Com- 
missioner," "Director of the Highways," etc., etc. 
No, here each individual possesses sufficient honor 
and self-respect to accomplish his own share of 
municipal work, to the benefit and comfort of the 
whole community. 

There is one very ancient custom still existing 
here which interests and entertains us greatly. This 
is the old fashion of employing a town crier, who 
after beating a brass disk which is suspended by a 
cord from his shoulder, calls out in a loud, clear 
voice, the news of the day, events in foreign lands, 
transfers of property, sales and auctions which 
have already taken place or are to occur in the near 
future, lost and found articles and the like. For in- 
stance: he walks a distance of a block or two, then 
stops in the middle of the street, beats the brass 
disk vigorously with a small striker, and casting his 
head heavenward, utters the phrases which have 
been prepared and given to him in stereotyped 
tones. Thus the town receives its news, and the 
crier keeps those who never stir from their homes 
as well as the business men of the city informed of 
the most prominent events of their own and other 
countries. What better method could be employed 




" A street auction." [See /age 220). 



Old Customs and Quaint Pictures 215 

in the absence of newspapers ? The community is 
kept in touch with the outside world and with its 
own members by means of this odd and ancient 
custom. 

I have the pleasure of a personal association with 
the crier. Our party is so much annoyed by the 
continual staring of the people, who seem unable 
to become accustomed to our appearance in the 
town, and who follow us constantly day and even- 
ing when we walk upon the streets, that I decide 
to try some means to stop it. The proprietor of 
the hotel, at my request, adds another sentence to 
the daily bulletin; it runs as follows: "The three 
Americans now stopping at the Posthoorn Hotel 
must not be annoyed by the good people of this 
town. It is not good manners to stare at them 
and follow them, and it is unpleasant to these 
strangers." 

The day following my request, I listen anxiously 
for the voice of the crier, and his appearance in our 
neighborhood. Here he comes; and the message 
is rolled forth in sonorous tones. I seek the land- 
lord and ask him if the notice is to be circulated 
throughout the town; and he replies in the affirma- 
tive. In justice to the inhabitants, 1 must state that 
they heed the request, and hereafter go on their way 



2i6 Odd Bits of Travel 

without undue excitement or comment when we 
appear among them; much to our own comfort 
and enjoyment. 

Few horses are seen upon these streets: wagons 
are drawn by two, three, or four huge draught 
dogs, trained for this purpose. Men are also fre- 
quently harnessed to wagons, as well as women, 
and sometimes a woman and dog will appear to- 
gether drawing a load of merchandise. 

Milk is delivered by buxom young girls who carry 
on their shoulders a strong wooden yoke: from the 
ends of this the milk pails are suspended by ropes. 
Vegetables and other provisions are delivered in the 
same manner. The milkmaid passes from door to 
door, rapping on each with the ancient brass 
knocker, and serving her customer with the milk 
as it is served with us. 

The whole place is a succession of quaint and 
picturesque houses. The shapes are various, and 
the heavy red-tiled roofs and many gables have a 
charming effect as they stand in rows on either side 
of the street. Each house seems to possess an indi- 
vidual style of its own, and many are so old that 
they lean quite out of the perpendicular. 

While travelling in Holland one is constantly con- 
fronted with a sign in the form of a wooden arm 




" At Ihc fartliest end of the street stands an old windmill." [See page 2^^.) 



Old Customs and Quaint Pictures 219 

stretched from a doorway, with a brass disk sus- 
pended from it containing the words: 

Hier scheeit en snyd men het haar, 

which signifies that here one can be shaved and 
have his hair cut: in other words, it is the sign of a 
barber, who in America designates his calling by 
the gayly-colored pole. The brass disks in front 
of these places are polished to a high state of 
brilliancy, and being suspended so that they swing 
loosely in the breeze, they cast dazzling reflec- 
tions in all directions which cannot fail to attract 
the attention of the passer-by. Another advertise- 
ment which differs greatly from those in our coun- 
try is that of the drug store. While with us huge 
glass vases and globes of different colors are dis- 
played in the window of the apothecary, in Holland 
a wooden head of a man in great agony, with pro- 
truding tongue, indicates that here the sufferer can 
find relief and medicine for all his aches and pains. 
This head is conspicuously placed over the entrance 
to the drug store. 

Another odd custom in this strange country is 
that of placing a large screen called a " Horetje" in 
the front windows of private houses, or on the first 
floors. The screen is sometimes shaped like a fan, 
sometimes it is heart-shaped or oval, and is intended 



220 Odd Bits of Travel 

to protect the person seated at the door or window 
from the idle gaze of the pedestrian. Indeed it 
often hides a charming picture of maiden grace and 
modesty. 

One day as I am sitting at the door of the hotel 
attempting to sketch some of the picturesque houses 
in the neighborhood, with many wondering eyes 
directed toward my canvas, I notice a crowd of 
people beginning to gather a short distance off. I 
do not see the centre of attraction, but seizing my 
camera, which is my constant companion, together 
with pencils and brushes, which are as close friends 
as Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, I hasten to 
the scene of action, feeling that probably something 
is going to happen which will add a new page to 
my experience. It is true: something interesting is 
about to take place; and that is a street auction, a 
common occurrence in this town. The auctioneer, 
perched above the heads of his audience upon an 
old wooden box, is calling out his sales in Dutch. 
The articles which he is about to dispose of to the 
highest bidders are dress goods, linen and wearing 
apparel. Much persuasion is necessary before a 
sale is effected, as the strong desire of the customers 
to obtain bargains is met by an equally strong de- 
termination on the part of the auctioneer to sell his 




" A beautifully shaded walk just outside the town." {See page 224.) 



Old Customs and Ouaint Pictures 22':i 

stock at good prices. A funny sort of a seesaw is 
tile result, wiiich is the source of much merriment 
among the spectators. I join in some of these out- 
bursts from pure sympathy, as most of the time I 
do not understand either the jokes or allusions. A 
lively business is frequently carried on at these 
auctions; but whether the purchaser really obtains 
more for his money than by the ordinary method of 
buying I cannot ascertain. I presume they think 
they have some advantage, or they would not flock 
to the sales in such numbers. 

An active branch of business here is the sale of 
curios, antique silverware, china, gold, jewels, and 
bric-a-brac; in fact ancient articles of every descrip- 
tion. 

As we walk down the Main street, admiring the 
clean highway and lovely old houses on either side 
of us, we observe many pairs of wooden shoes 
lying in front of the different residences near the 
doorways, and upon inquiry learn that when one 
person goes to call upon another, he leaves his 
heavy wooden shoes outside the door, and enters in 
his stocking feet. 

At the farthest end of the street stands an old 
windmill with its huge arms moving slowly and 
regularly in harmony with the gentle breeze which 



224 



Odd Bits of Travel 



blows across the Zuyder Zee. As we draw nearer, 
we see that it is an ancient grist mill, and here is the 
owner, who invites us in to view the interior, and 
with whom we have a pleasant chat in our own 
colloquial style, adopted since our arrival in this 
city. Dozens of windmills can be seen from this 
point, and, as I have already said, they are used for 
many different purposes. The foundation story is 
the home of the family, and in a number of these 
you will find quaint, delightful pictures of old 
Dutch interiors, with their odd chairs and dressers, 
ancient clocks and brass bound chests, old-fashioned 
china, and tiled fireplaces. 

There is a beautifully shaded walk just outside 
the town, encircling the whole city. Large trees 
here protect Monnikendam from the heavy wind 
and rain storms which come from the Zuyder Zee, 
when old Neptune rises in one of his dreadful 
tantrums. We enjoy this lovely walk, but what 
do we not enjoy in this town which surely has 
bound us by some magic spell; for the longer we 
stay here, the more loath we are to leave its bor- 
ders. 

One day we take a boat and direct our course 
along one of the canals, on which there is consider- 
able traffic. Here we behold the pitiable sight of 



Old Customs and Quaint Pictures 225 

two young girls, harnessed like mules, and attached 
to a lead rope, pulling inch by inch, and foot by 
foot, a large canal-boat filled with merchandise. 

I can imagine no harder work than this, for the 
poor creatures are exposed to the intense heat of 
the sun, with no protection against its direct rays, 
and they have a long slow journey before them, ere 
the heavily-laden boat making its progress foot by 
foot shall reach its destination. The toil of the fac- 
tory girl in America is play when compared with 
that of the draught girl in Holland. 




" Land and water." [See /'age 224.) 



A Dutch Cheese-making District. 




A good road for the bicycle." (See page 2^g.) 



A Dutch Cheese-making Distnd* 

A Cheese making Country — Edam Cheese — A Picturesque Inn — 
An Interesting Interior — A Thrifty Farmer — At Sunrise — In 
the Cow Stable— The Pretty Maid— Stall and Parlor— The 
Cheese Room — The Process of Making Cheese — " I Have 
Listened and Listened " — A Trip to Volendam — A Fine 
Country Road — A Charming Day— Muzzled Dogs — The Only 
Street — A Multitude of Children — Gay Decorations — A United 
People — As a Hen and Her Brood — Their Wealth is Health 
— In Sunday Dress — Stalwart Men and Sturdy Women — A 
Higher Type — " I have enough " — Fishermen — The Anchor- 
age — A Volendam Suit. 




0-DAY we take the train for Edam, of 
world-wide fame as a cheese-making cen- 
tre. This town, situated about five miles 
north of Monnikendam, abounds in beau- 
tiful old trees which protect it from the heat of the 
sun, and render it very attractive. All of these 
towns seem to possess individual interest, and the 
traveller is constantly surprised in this region by 
new and unexpected scenes: but the imprint of 
truth and honesty upon the faces of the dwellers in 
every town, village and settlement in Holland is ob- 
served as the common bond of union, and leads us 

233 



234 ^^^ ^its o^ Travel 

to understand the happiness and prosperity for 
which this region Is justly celebrated. 

It is hardly necessary to say that many cheese 
factories are scattered throughout this section of the 
country. At one of these factories, located on the 
bank of the canal, we see a large barge being 
loaded with five thousand of the delicious Edam 
cheeses, intended for foreign markets. We stop 
for rest and refreshment at one of the many inns on 
the way. This house is a fine subject for an artist. 
The room in which our meal is served is in itself a 
masterpiece. The floor, composed of large stone 
flags, is spotlessly clean, and the walls are covered 
with odd pieces of china, evidently associated with 
family history: the woodwork is as white as soap 
and sand can make it, and the windows are as clear 
as crystal. In a corner stands the old Dutch clock, 
with the moon, now nearly full, represented above 
its time-worn face, and on one side is the dark 
dresser, rich in ancient plates, and other quaint old- 
fashioned crockery. The table at which we sit is 
covered with a snov/y cloth of homespun linen, and 
the blue and white dishes with the stories upon 
them which have been thus told for unknown ages 
almost charm us into forgetfulness of our luncheon 
itself, until a healthy cheerful country girl appears, 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 235 

and with deft movements and smiling face places 
before us the appetizing cheese, delicious bread, 
freshly churned butter, and new milk as well as 
buttermilk. For this but a trifling charge is made, 
but we feel that a glimpse into this quaint old 
Dutch interior, the sight of these brass-bound chests 
and claw-footed chairs, and the picture of the cheer- 
ful Holland maid are worth many times the cost of 
the meal. 

We are much entertained by our visit to a thrifty 
farmer whose home is about a mile from Monniken- 
dam. This well-to-do personage owns a large dairy 
farm, and learning that we are interested in this 
subject, invites us to be present at sunrise to wit- 
ness the process of cheese-making. An early hour 
finds us on the way, and in good time a rap on the 
door of the farmhouse brings us into the presence 
of a bright middle-aged Dutch vrow, who with a 
cherry " Goeden morgen " bids us enter. We are 
first ushered into the parlor, which is a room of con- 
siderable size, immaculately clean, with comfortable 
chairs and sofas placed in various corners, and a 
supply of delft ware and shining brass candlesticks 
that fill our hearts with longing. In a few mo- 
ments we are invited to the adjoining room, which 
we suppose to be the kitchen or dining-room, but 



236 Odd Bits of Travel 

to our surprise find ourselves in the cow-stable, a 
spacious, well lighted apartment, about seventy feet 
long and fifteen feet wide. A row of stalls runs 
along one side of the room, and here stand as many 
of the genuine, full blooded Holstein cattle. They 
are handsome creatures, looking as sleek and clean 
as those which take the premiums at the state and 
county fairs at home. Here they stand, patiently 
awaiting the appearance of the milkmaid; not how- 
ever the milkmaid, " all forlorn " of nursery rhyme, 
but in truth 

The pretty maid with dress so clean, 
With shining pail and face serene, 
Who milks the cows with happy smile. 
And sings her joyous songs the while. 

The stalls are as sweet, clean and orderly as is the 
parlor which we have just left, and snowy curtains 
hang above the windows over them, the only ap- 
parent difference between the stable and the parlor 
being that the cattle stand upon fresh, fragrant 
straw, instead of a clean carpet. From the stable 
we are conducted to an adjoining building, which 
is the cheese factory, and to the room in which are 
assembled the farmer, his wife and two servants. 
Everything is in readiness: the fresh milk is poured 
into a huge iron kettle which stands upon the floor, 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 237 

and which is capable of holding about twenty gal- 
lons: a small quantity of rennet is put into the milk, 
and in perhaps twenty minutes a kind of sieve is 
passed quickly to and fro through the curdled mass. 
These sieves or curd-knives have handles by which 
they are held while the blades are drawn from side 
to side, cutting the curd into myriads of tiny cubes. 
Then the farmer's wife rolls up her sleeves, ex- 
posing to view a pair of round, shapely arms which 
would be the pride of a city belle, and dips both 
hands and arms deep in the floating mass. She 
presses, and kneads and rolls this thickening body 
until it assumes the consistency of dough: the whey 
is bluish in color, and as thin as water. This is 
drained off, and water is poured over the mass sev- 
eral times, until the cheese is thoroughly cleansed 
of all the floating particles. It is now ready to be 
placed in five pound moulds made of wood: the 
moulds are put into a powerful press which shapes 
the cheese, and extracts any lurking remnants of 
water. After about eight hours in the press, the 
cheeses are salted and placed on shelves to dry. 
Now for a month it is necessary to turn them every 
day, and after that, every other day for a month. 
They are also sponged with lukewarm water and 
dried in the open air, and the final process is a thin 



238 Odd Bits of Travel 

coat of linseed oil. It is a tedious operation; great 
care is necessary to keep the chamber in which they 
are shelved perfectly clean and dry, and of an even 
temperature. At last the articles are ready for ship- 
ment to all parts of the world. This is an enormous 
industry: in North Holland alone, we are informed 
that twenty-six million pounds of cheese are pro- 
duced per annum. 

The portion of the process witnessed by us oc- 
cupies about an hour and a half: these cheeses are 
worth from the farmer's hands fifty or sixty cents 
apiece. 

There is a little boy ten or twelve years of age 
about here who seems to derive great pleasure from 
our society, although he cannot understand one 
word of English. One day, after sitting quietly for 
a long time, while we are conversing together, he 
repeats impatiently in his own language: "I have 
listened and listened to your talk, and I cannot un- 
derstand one word. I do not think you are talking 
sense at all." 

Alas, poor child! You are not the only one who 
has listened and listened, trying in vain to find a 
gleam of intelligence in the foreigner's gibberish. 
Ignorance of the language of a nation causes 
it to appear to one like a vast sealed volume, 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 239 

which he knows only by the pictures on the title 
page. 

I have written at length of the Island of Marken, 
one of the most noted of the " Dead cities of Hol- 
land," and now, let us take a peep at the sister city 
of Volendam, which lies four miles north of Mon- 
nikendam. As we do not wish to visit this place 
when all the men are off on their fishing expedi- 
tions, we choose for our excursion a clear bright 
Sunday, a day on which the men will surely be at 
home, and their sea horses at anchor in the harbor. 

Procuring a large carriage and a powerful horse, 
a difficult thing to obtain at short notice, we direct 
our driver to jog along slowly that we may enjoy 
the beauty of the surrounding country. We drive 
over a fine road, level and well ballasted; a good 
road for the bicycle: in fact all the roads of Hol- 
land, city and country, are kept in perfect condi- 
tion. It is a charming day, and the balmy atmos- 
phere and the refreshing breeze which sweeps over 
the Zuyder Zee have a soothing effect upon mind 
and body. This would be a great country for in- 
valids, and those who seek rest and change from 
the demands of fashion and social life. There is 
no fashion here; only pure air and lovely peaceful 
beauty everywhere, with good wholesome food 



240 Odd Bits of Travel 

and kind hearts to extend a cordial welcome to the 
weary stranger. Added to this is the very moder- 
ate cost of a sojourn in this delightful region. 

Occasionally we pass a small cart or wagon 
drawn by dogs, the driver a young girl who is 
comfortably seated in the vehicle, now and then 
administering to the animals, by means of a short 
stick, reminders not to lag on the way. These 
dogs are not the ordinary house dog which is seen 
in our country; but are powerful and muscular 
creatures, as perhaps I have already said, and so 
cross and savage when roused, that to secure the 
safety of the persons near them they are closely 
muzzled. Being ignorant of their peculiar traits, 
one day while admiring a couple of fine draught 
dogs which are resting near a wagon, I approach 
them too closely; my enthusiasm is suddenly cooled 
as one of them springs viciously at me, striking me 
heavily on the chest, and he certainly would have 
chipped a good sized piece of flesh from my body 
had his muzzle not prevented this catastrophe. 
Hereafter I keep a distance of many feet between 
me and these animals, and others of their species. 

After a lovely drive of an hour, we arrive at the 
old town which is as wonderful and interesting as 
its sister city. It too is built upon the banks of the 




" Tliis stiange looking highway runs lengthwise thiougli the town." 

{Seepage 243.) 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 243 

Zuyder Zee. We stand upon the only street in the 
place, which in appearance resembles the back 
bone of a whale, with small brick houses on either 
side. This strange looking highway runs length- 
wise through the town. The street is narrow: 
horses and dogs are never seen upon it, but there 
are hundreds of children, who gather in great 
throngs around our horse, wondering at the strange 
animal, and declaring him to be a huge dog, for 
many of them have never seen a horse before. Our 
appearance is also a great event to them, and the 
visit creates as much excitement on one side as the 
other. It is a "red letter day " for both the towns- 
people and ourselves. 

The houses are roofed with red tiles, which ex- 
hibit many different shapes and styles, and we per- 
ceive numerous flags floating from the windows, 
and decorations of gay bunting. Upon asking the 
reason of this festive appearance in the isolated and 
usually quiet city, we are informed that they are in 
honor of a wedding which is to take place within a 
few days. A wedding in this town is an occasion 
of great rejoicing, and every household enters into 
the spirit of the entertainment with enthusiasm, as 
the whole community resembles one large family, 
and from the least to the greatest, they are all well 



244 ^^^ -^^^^ °^ Travel 

known to each other. The affairs of one are the 
affairs of all, hence a single marriage becomes the 
festive occasion of the entire population. This is 
not strange when one recollects that the people 
have no other means of entertainment, such as 
theatres, concert halls or libraries, whist or euchre 
parties. They have nothing save the individual hap- 
penings in the domestic lives of the different fam- 
ilies. 

A woman whose children are sitting quietly upon 
the curb stone near us, looks hurriedly around the 
door of her house, and seeing the commotion which 
our arrival excites, calls anxiously for her "kids" 
to come to her protecting arms, in mortal fear lest 
one of her brood should be carried off by these 
strange and unexpected visitors. As I look around, 
and behold the robust and muscular physiques of 
both men and women, I think any one would be 
daring indeed who would attempt to carry off a 
child or any other possession from these people in 
opposition to their wills. 

The women and children here are richly endowed 
with the blessings of health and strength. The 
whole population of thirteen hundred people em- 
ploy but one doctor, who has time to grow rusty in 
his profession, so few are the demands upon his 




"The hous' 3 are roofed with red tiles." (^See page 24J.] 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 247 

skill. I suggest to him on the occasion of a meet- 
ing, that he adopt the Chinese plan of remunera- 
tion, that is that the people pay him an annuity as 
long as they are well, and that when they are sick, 
they be entitled to his services gratis. 

The natives of Holland are not inclined to ex- 
cesses of any kind, and they thus enjoy the full 
benefit of naturally sound constitutions, and are 
able to transmit to their children perfect, unim- 
paired health. As we stroll along this backbone of 
a street without name or pretensions, we stop at 
many of the doorways to talk with the residents, 
and soon become impressed with the hospitality of 
the people, who are arrayed in all the glory of their 
Sunday finery, and appear at the fronts of their 
homes happy in the consciousness that they as well 
as all their surroundings are in "apple pie order." 
We are as much interested in them as they are in 
us, and that is saying a great deal. 

The great, stalwart fellows with their broad 
shoulders and rugged faces are indeed true types of 
all that is brave and manly. A loose shirt and 
baggy trousers, with a small cloth cap is the or- 
dinary costume of the men, many of whom wear 
wooden shoes; leather slippers are also worn. The 
women are equally brave and strong in appearance, 



248 Odd Bits of Travel 

and as large in proportion as the men. Tlieir sturdy 
forms and healthy faces are rare models for the 
artist's brush. Their dress is of homespun linen, 
generally dyed blue, and is composed of several 
pieces; sometimes these are of various colors com- 
bined in a picturesque and effective arrangement. 
The head-dress is of lace and is pretty and becom- 
ing: indeed many of our fashionable belles might 
greatly improve their appearance by adopting the 
charming coiffure of these pretty and apparently un- 
conscious Holland girls and women. These people 
represent a higher type of humanity than the in- 
habitants of Marken: their intelligence and refine- 
ment are more marked, but they have the sunny 
temperaments and contented dispositions character- 
istic of the Hollanders, and though ignorant of the 
customs of the outside world, and limited in their 
lives to a narrow sphere, they are a happy and 
satisfied people. They seem in that happy state of 
mind, so rarely possessed, in which they can say 
/ have enough. Happiness consists not in possess- 
ing much, but in being content with what we pos- 
sess. He who wants little always has enough. 

These men, like those in the neighboring Island 
of Marken, obtain their livelihood by fishing. They 
leave their homes in small boats or yachts every 



A Dutch Cheese-making District 249 

Monday morning, and do not return until late 
Saturday night, allowing them but one day in the 
week, Sunday, to spend in their homes. Close by 
us is the anchorage, so called from the fact that 
dozens of fishing boats anchor within its harbor. 1 
suppose that fully a hundred of these yachts are 
lying there now, and, shifting from side to side as 
the wind stirs the waters of the Zuyder Zee, present 
the appearance of a city of masts in a hurricane. 
As we wander about it occurs to me that 1 should 
like to become the possessor of one of the odd and 
picturesque suits of clothing worn here; especially 
one of the better kind of the men's suits, for I know 
that this quaint and ancient dress would be interest- 
ing to a number of friends far away in dear America. 
Filled with the idea, I stop many of the natives, and 

through our good and genial friend Mr. L inquire 

if it is possible to purchase from one of them a suit 
of clothing, and suggest that if they have none 
themselves to sell, perhaps one of their comrades 
would part with a suit in exchange for my bright 
guilders. We talk to a great many men, but re- 
ceive the same answer from all: that is that each 
possesses but two suits; a best or Sunday suit, and 
a week-day or fishing suit, neither of which it is 
possible to sell for any price that I may offer. I ask 



2^0 Odd Bits of Travel 

again if there is not some one else among the men 
who may be willing to oblige me, and learn that 
most of the men and women are in church, but that 
if we will wait until the service is over, we can talk 
with them, and may succeed in our quest. 



Volendam Sights and the 

Oldest Town on the Rhine. 




" The delicate lace caps frame smiling faces." [See /ta^e z^t. 



Volendam Sights and the Oldest Town on 
the Rhine* 

Church is out — The Promenade — Every man is a Volume — An 
Old Suit — His Sunday Clothes — "Let him have it" — An 
Obedient Son — The Silver Buttons — The Last Straw — An 
Uncommon Action — The Hotel — An Artist's Resort — An Un- 
finished Painting — Good-bye — The Ancient City of Cologne — 
The Cathedral— Within the «' Dom "—A Wonderful Collec- 
tion — Foundation of the Town — History — Vicissitudes — Pub- 
lic Gardens — Eau de Cologne — The Palace of Bruhl. 

ITHIN a short time we perceive a large 
number of people slowly advancing in 
our direction. Church is over, and it is 
customary after the service for every 
one to promenade up and down this street. Here 
friends and relatives greet each other, exchange 
items of local interest and have their little gossips 
over family affairs. The sight is one long to be re- 
membered. The round weather-beaten faces of 
the men, as they roll along in true sailor fashion, 
the merry chattering women and girls in their 
picturesque costume, the children running hither 
and thither, and the gayly decorated houses that line 
the long street are worthy the brush of an artist. 

255 




256 Odd Bits of Travel 

Truly these people seem to practice the Golden 
Rule, for no one appears to be thinking of himself, 
but every one cares for the comfort and happiness 
of his family, friends or neighbors. The delicate 
lace caps of the women frame smiling faces, and 
the maidens in their quaint homespun gowns look 
as though they are a part of a play at one of our 
theatres. As the congregation draws nearer, we 
halt before the foremost group, and having attracted 
their attention by our novel appearance, ask through 

our friend Mr. L , the oft-repeated question 

about the suit of Volendam clothes, which we are 
anxious to carry home to show our friends in 
America. In an instant they all shake their heads 
in the negative, looking very serious at the idea of 
such a proposition. Their manly and straightfor^ 
ward manner charms me. I look into the open 
countenances, in which there is much individuality, 
and say to myself: it is as true here as in the great 
cities of the world that Every man is a volume if 
you know how to read him. There is a story in the 
heart of each one of these sturdy fishermen, whether 
it has seen the light of day or not, and many a no- 
ble deed and heroic action that in another town 
would receive a medal of honor, or at least the ap- 
plause of the public, passes here as a common inci- 




" As the congregation draws nearer, we halt before the foremost group." 

( See page 2^6. ) 



Volendam Sights 259 

dent of everyday life. These people do not live 
for show: the only medals which they wear, and 
which they transmit to their children are the records 
of pure, honest lives which are proudly handed 
dov/n from one generation to another. 

Meanwhile I stand before them watching the 
varying expressions and wondering if there is any 
prospect of obtaining my desire. At last one man 
says hesitatingly that he has an old suit at home 
that he no longer wears, and if we will accompany 
him to his house, a few doors away, he will show it 
to us. We turn and follow him, and a score or 
more of the people follow us. What must an old 
suit look like in this thrifty community where the 
men and women never discard anything until it is 
utterly hopeless as regards service ? 

A suit which one of these is willing to dispose of 
must indeed be a peculiar object. I wonder if it 
has that "ancient and fish-like smell," described by 
Shakespeare, The fates forbid! Perhaps it is a 
relic of a beloved father or grandfather, handed 
down as a family heirloom. We enter the house, 
still surrounded by curious spectators, and our 
obliging friend takes from a closet a carefully- 
wrapped bundle, which upon being opened dis- 
closes a worn and aged suit: unfortunately its age 



26o Odd Bits of Travel 

does not add to its beauty or value as in the cases 
of old masterpieces in art, as a painting by Murillo 
or Rembrandt. The clothes are old, dirty, and 
faded, and only fit for the receptacle of the ragman, 
but they do not fail to serve their purpose, for 
while this young athlete holds them out, with an 
expression of pride and pleasure, a sudden thought 
fills me with hope. The suit which this young 
man wears is of the highest type of the Volendam 
fashion, and is quite new. The flannel blouse with 
its gay undervest showing at the chest, and the 
baggy brown velveteen trousers form an ideal 
specimen of the costume of these people. I must 
have this suit. No other will answer my purpose. 
Without preliminaries, I boldly propose to him to 
sell me the suit he wears, and put on the old one 
until he can procure another. His countenance 
falls, and with a look of positive fear, he draws 
back, shaking his head and repeating: " Nee. Nee. 
Nee." 

Then he moves farther away, as though in terror 
lest I then and there strip him of his garments. He 
cannot sell the suit, he says, especially as the wed- 
ding festivities of one of his neighbors are so soon 
to take place. In a corner of the room, quietly 
smoking a clay pipe, sits the old father, watching 



Volendam Sights 261 

without a word the little drama taking place before 
him. As the boy reiterates his refusal, the man 
talks to him in expostulatory tones, and as we 
learn, says: "The gentleman from America is a 
good man. Let him have the suit: you shall have 
another." At this advice the son, though looking 
rather sulky, yields, and withdrawing to the adjoin- 
ing room, exchanges the suit he wears for the old 
one, and returns with the desire of my heart rolled 
up and wrapped in a clean paper. The evidence of 
good will on the part of the parent, and the obedi- 
ence of the son charm me even more than the pos- 
session of the coveted garments. The boy is a 
noble lad. As we are about leaving, I suddenly 
espy the silver coin buttons which are such an or- 
nament to the dress, and which are considered a 
mark of distinction, when worn by old or young. 
They are rare and valuable decorations, being but- 
tons made of coins, and held together by a link, as 
our sleeve-buttons. They are worn in the bands 
of the trousers and shirts, serving the purpose of 
suspenders. 

The coins are brilliantly polished and present a 
striking appearance. They are generally heirlooms, 
and some of them are of very ancient date. 

In general they are cherished as treasures beyond 



262 Odd Bits of Travel 

price : these worn by the boy are exceedingly rare, 
and are more than a hundred years old, having be- 
longed to his great-grandfather. The outer and 
larger coins are three guilder pieces, the smaller 
ones one guilder. 

To ask for these is indeed the "last straw," and 
when the father requests his son to put them in the 
bundle with the clothing, he bursts into tears, and 
his hands tremble as he gives them to me. 

For this final test of obedience I thank him heart- 
ily, and bestow upon him a liberal reward for the 
sacrifice, together with much praise. As he looks 
at the guilders with which I have filled his hand, 
his countenance brightens, and the rainfall is 
changed into radiant sunshine. The neighbors 
look on this scene with surprise, and many of them 
declare that this is a very uncommon occurrence in 
Volendam, as they have never known any one 
heretofore to dispose of family heirlooms to a for- 
eigner. It is unnecessary to say that I also value 
the coins beyond price, and treasure them for their 
association, and the interesting picture which they 
never fail to bring before me. 

There is but one hotel in the place, and thither 
we resort. It is a small building without preten- 
sions, containing about ten rooms, of no great size. 




Every man is a volume if you know how to read him." {^See J>age 2jO.) 



Volendam Sights 265 

but clean and comfortable. We learn that board 
and accommodations may be had here for four guil- 
ders (one dollar) a day. This hotel has entertained 
artists from all parts of the world. The good-na- 
tured landlord will do everything in his power to 
make his guests comfortable. In the general sitting- 
room or parlor, there is abundant evidence that 
these efforts have been appreciated in the beautiful 
paintings presented to him by some of the most 
famous artists of our day. He is a loyal upholder 
of art and artists. His daughter, a fresh looking 
maiden, is so much pleased when I say that I too, 
am an artist and photographer, that she insists upon 
taking me up to the third floor to see the fine view 
from the v/indows which overlook the Zuyder Zee. 
She also shows me a room which was fitted up for 
a lady artist from New York. Here is an unfinished 
picture upon the easel, of an old Volendam woman, 
in her fancy cap and bright colored homespun cos- 
tume. 

This secluded spot offers many attractions for 
both brush and camera in interesting studies of 
figures and landscape, as well as charming water 
scenes. We would gladly spend a longer time 
amid these delightful pictures, but it is impossible, 
so we take our departure amid a hundred good 



266 Odd Bits of Travel 

wishes, and as we drive away, the inhabitants who 
have gathered from all parts of the town to see the 
queer Americans, call after us: " Goeden dag," and 
"Tot weerziens," (Until we meet again). A dozen 
or more children run by the side of the carriage 
shouting and laughing for a considerable distance. 
And so we bid farewell to a hearty and attractive 
people and their quaint surroundings. 

Let us take a somewhat hasty glance at Cologne, 
the oldest city on the Rhine, and one of the largest 
towns in the Rhenish Province of Prussia. We 
cannot afford to miss this town, were it only on 
account of the great Cathedral whose lofty towers 
rise heavenward to a height of five hundred and 
twelve feet. How one longs to find himself within 
these sacred walls, to stand and gaze upon the 
wondrous arches, pillars, and dome, the stained 
glass and statues, the frescoes and carving, the work 
of an endless succession of artists and artisans. 
Next to St. Peter's at Rome, this Cathedral is the 
largest church in the world. It stands upon the old 
Roman camping ground, and more than six centu- 
ries have passed since its foundations were laid. The 
name of its architect is unknown, and even the 
original designs have been forgotten. Its interior is 
four hundred and thirty feet long and one hundred 




Goeden dag. Tot weerziens." {See pao'e 266.) 



Volendam Sights 269 

and forty feet broad. The portion appropriated to 
divine service covers an area of seventy thousand 
square feet. It is useless to attempt to describe this 
vast structure whose buttresses, turrets, gargoyles, 
canopies and tracery are innumerable and bewilder- 
ing. The Gothic arches and countless pillars form 
a grand perspective. There are seven chapels 
which present a wealth of paintings, and relics. 
In the Chapel of the Three Magi is a marvellous 
casket of crystal, whose cover is set with precious 
stones, which is said to contain the skulls of Caspar, 
Melchior and Balthazar, the three Wise Men from 
the East who followed the star to the cradle of the 
infant Christ. 

In the great treasury of the Cathedral are untold 
treasures. Here are silver censers, paintings set in 
diamonds, shrines of silver, and rare and priceless 
relics of every description, besides gold and silver 
chalices, fonts, and other church vessels, and a col- 
lection of magnificent vestments. 

Many are the vicissitudes through which this won- 
derful structure has passed, since its commencement 
in 1248. At times it seemed abandoned to ruin, 
then again the work was taken up and vast sums of 
money contributed, and the masterpiece of Gothic 
architecture was carried on toward completion, un- 



270 Odd Bits of Travel 

til once more the money was exhausted. It seems 
as though the old legend of the architect who sold 
his soul to the devil in exchange for the plan of the 
edifice must have some foundation, for tradition re- 
lates that Satan was finally outwitted by the archi- 
tect, and in revenge vowed that the Cathedral 
should never be finished, and the architect's name 
be forgotten. Immense fortunes have been ex- 
pended upon it by monarchs and others of the faith- 
ful. The great southern portal alone cost half a 
million dollars: the bells in the south tower, the 
largest of which was cast in 1874, from the metal 
of French guns, weighs twenty-five tons. The 
combined efforts of twenty-eight ringers are required 
to set it in motion. The next two in point of size, 
cast in 1447 and 1448, weigh respectively eleven 
and six tons. The magnificent stained glass win- 
dows were contributed by famous and royal donors, 
such as the Emperor Frederick III,, Archbishop Von 
Daun, Archbishop Von Hessen, King Lewis I. of 
Bavaria, Emperor William I., and many others. A 
number of these were executed as far back as 1508. 
Few structures can compete with this in beauty^ 
grace and elegance of form. How solemn is the 
atmosphere within these ancient walls! How im- 
pressive the picture of this apparently boundless in- 



Volendam Sights 271 

terior! In one of the great pillars is a flight of one 
hundred steps, which leads to a gallery extending 
across the transept, and still nearly forty steps 
higher one reaches the gallery which makes the 
tour of the whole Cathedral, and upon this one has a 
beautiful view of the city of Cologne, the Rhine and 
the surrounding country. Within the church there 
is a corresponding gallery, from which the visitor 
may observe the interior decorations, and from the 
loftiest gallery of all, there is a vast and delightful 
panorama which includes river and country as far 
as the eye can see. What can be more beautiful 
than this scene? Where can one find a grander, 
more solemn atmosphere than within these walls 
where the spirits and the hands of men have worked 
for ages ? Where can he experience more lofty as- 
pirations toward 

" The glorious Author of the universe 
Who reins the minds, gives the vast ocean bounds, 
And circumscribes the floating worlds their rounds" ? 

The city of Cologne was founded by the Ubii at 
the time when they were compelled by Agrippa to 
migrate from the right to the left bank of the Rhine, 
(b. c. 38). In A. D. 51, Agrippina, daughter of Ger- 
manicus, and mother of Nero, founded here a colony 
of Roman veterans which at first was called Colonia 



272 Odd Bits of Travel 

Agrippinensis, and afterward Colonia Claudia 
Agrippina. In 308 Constantine the Great began a 
stone bridge over the Rhine to Deutz. From the end 
of the fifth century Cologne belonged to the Franks 
and was long occupied by the Ripuarian kings. 
Charlemagne raised the bishopric which had been 
founded here in the fourth century to an archbish- 
opric, the first archbishop being the imperial chap- 
lain Hildebold who built the oldest cathedral church, 
and presented to it a valuable library which still 
exists. 

" The noble city has passed through many vicis- 
situdes, and it was not until after 181 5 under Prus- 
sian rule that it began to enjoy a degree of permanent 
prosperity. The rapid progress of its steamboat 
and railway systems, and the enterprise of the citi- 
zens, many of whom possess great wealth, have 
combined to make Cologne the centre of the Rhenish 
trade, and one of the most considerable commercial 
cities in Germany." 

The town is built with long narrow streets curv- 
ing in semicircles toward the river. Its sidewalks 
have the peculiarity of frequently dwindling away 
until only a few feet in width. The great Cathe- 
dral tower may be seen for miles, reaching far above 
the surrounding buildings. Cologne is a city of 



Volendam Sights 273 

legends and relics: old and historic buildings dating 
back many centuries are scattered in all directions, 
and here the visionary, the lover of myth and legend, 
can find abundant food for his imagination. The 
great and valued possessions of the city are the 
bones of the eleven thousand virgins. This is the 
legend: Fourteen hundred years ago, St. Ursula 
and eleven thousand virgins went on a pilgrimage 
to Rome, and returning were all slain by the Huns. 
Their bones were gathered together and brought to 
Cologne, where they were buried, and later the 
church of St. Ursula, now nearly nine hundred 
years old, was built over their tomb. Within this 
church the bones of the virgins are enclosed in stone 
caskets, with apertures through which they may 
be seen. The skulls are covered with needlework 
and ornamented with pearls and precious stones. 

Among other relics, is also to be found here the 
alabaster vase or rather one of the vases, in which 
the Saviour turned the water into wine at the mar- 
riage in Cana. The vase or jar is evidently a very 
ancient article: it is much cracked, and one handle 
is broken off. There are many points of interest in 
this old city, for here are museums, gardens, gal- 
leries and churches, and always the picturesque 
river with its countless views and pleasure trips. 



274 Odd Bits of Travel 

If one is weary of these legendary stories, or even 
of sightseeing itself, let him rest with me in one of 
the many public gardens, listening to the charming 
music of a good orchestra. 

There are skilled musicians in these gardens, and 
their selections are always well rendered. No loud 
or idle conversation is indulged in during these re- 
citals. Should any such breach of good manners 
occur, the transgressors are requested to observe 
the rule of the garden, and if the offence is re- 
peated, they are ejected from the premises. The 
Germans, being such lovers of good music, tolerate 
no other in their gardens. There is no admission 
fee, but the expenses are supposed to be met by the 
sale of beer, wine, pretzels and Frankfurt sausages. 

Before leaving Cologne I must not forget to men- 
tion the refreshing perfume which has made this 
city famous all over the world. The celebrated 
Eau de Cologne is said to have been invented by 
Jean Antoine Marie Farina of Domodossola in the 
year 1709. One could almost bathe in the perfume 
here for the money it would cost to filter our muddy 
Philadelphia water. There is an enormous quantity 
of it manufactured, and almost every store seems 
to have it for sale. 

A short distance from Cologne, or Koln as the 




" Palace of Briihl." {^See page 277.) 



Volendam Sights 277 

Germans call it, is the almost forsaken station of 
Bruhl. I would advise the tourist to alight here, 
and take a close view of the imperial palace 
known as the Palace of Bruhl, a handsome build- 
ing erected about the year 1725. As v/e advance 
toward the beautiful and spacious grounds, it is 
not difficult to imagine the magnificent structure 
looming up in the distance as the home of royalty. 
The approach to the palace is studded with marble 
statues, and the palace itself is a classic example of 
the French and German rococo style of architecture; 
from it radiate many lovely walks and bowery 
avenues which are adorned with fine statuary. 
Here too are velvet lawns, noble trees and glowing 
flower beds, and should one wish to view the in- 
terior of this elegant palace, he will find that some 
of the rooms are open to visitors. 

Our stay within is necessarily brief. Retracing 
our steps to the station, we take the train, and are 
carried swiftly toward the old town of Bonn. 



Along the Banks of the Rhine. 




«' Lovely walks and bowery avenues." [See /'age 2'/j.) 



Along the Banks of the Rhine, 

Bonn — The Birthplace of Beethoven— The Museum — Monument 
— A Famous Restaurant — College Students — Beer Mugs — 
— Special Tables — Affairs of Honor — Konigswinter — Mag- 
nificent Views — Drachenfels — The Castle — The Dombruch — 
Siegfried and the Dragon — A Desecrated Ruin — The Splendor 
of the Mountains — Many Visitors — View from the Summit — 
The Students' Chorus — German Life — A German Breakfast — 
The Camera — Old Castles and Lofty Mountains — Legends of 
the Rhine— The Waters of the Rhine — Vineyards. 




HIS town like its sister cities is of ancient 
foundation, having been one of tine first 
Roman fortresses on the Rhine. It is the 
seat of a university which attracts students 
from all parts of the world. It is a prosperous 
looking place with pleasant villas on the river banks, 
and ancient picturesque houses. There are lovely 
shaded walks in the public gardens, and a fine view 
from the Alte Zoll, but the chief interest of the 
town for us lies in the fact that it is the birthplace 
of Beethoven, In a small unpretentious house the 
great musician was born in 1770, and here were 
composed many of those wonderful harmonies 
which have thrilled the souls of lovers of music all 

283 



284 Odd Bits of Travel 

over the world. The room in which this noble 
genius first saw the light of day is in the top of the 
house, a garret ten feet by twelve in size, and con- 
tains no furniture whatever: nor is it necessary to 
remind those who enter it, by aught save the 
wreath of green which lies peacefully upon the 
floor, that the spirit whose earthly tabernacle dwelt 
here breathed forth the fire of heaven. 

" Ci'eative genius. From thy hand 
What shapes of order, beauty rise, 
Where waves thy potent, mystic wand, 
To people ocean, earth and skies," 

In an adjoining room are stored some pieces of 
furniture which belonged to Beethoven, and the 
piano used by him in the composition of some of 
his most famous sonatas. Some of the ladies of 
our party are permitted to play upon this sacred in- 
strument. Do they hope to be inspired by the 
magic spell of the master's touch still lingering 
among the keys ? The dwelling has been purchased 
by lovers of the celebrated composer, and fitted up as 
a Beethoven Museum. Not far off stands the statue 
of the artist and the monument dedicated to him. 

Before leaving Bonn, we visit the famous restau- 
rant which is the nightly resort of the students dur- 
ing the college term. The spacious rooms compos- 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 285 

ing this cafe communicate with each other by a 
wide and lofty doorway. The furniture consists 
of bare wooden tables, a long counter, and dozens 
of shabby chairs which look as if they have seen 
hard service. The corpulent and jovial proprietor 
informs us that these rooms are filled to overflow- 
ing with both gay and serious students every night 
in the week, and that here, notwithstanding the 
ofttimes boisterous merriment, questions of grave 
import are often discussed, together with all the 
current topics of interest; and that speeches are 
made brilliant enough for publication in the daily 
papers. Here the young orator first tests his pow- 
ers, and in all his future career, he will find no more 
critical audience than this composed of his fellow- 
students. Here too are nights given up to fun and 
jollity, to college songs and wild and reckless mirth, 
when there is not a serious countenance among the 
crowd. 

" He cannot try to speak with gravity, 
But one perceives he wags an idle tongue ; 
He cannot try to look demure, but spite 
Of all he does he shows a laugher's cheek ; 
He cannot e'en essay to walk sedate, 
But in his very gait one sees a jest 
That's ready to break out in spite of all 
His seeming." 



286 Odd Bits of Travel 

Hundreds of voices make the roof ring with tune- 
ful harmony: choruses, glees and comic ballads 
follow each other, interspersed with jokes and puffs 
at pipes and sips of beer, for the German student 
is a 

•• Rare compound of oddity, frolic and fun, 
To relish a joke and rejoice at a pun." 

Pounds of poor tobacco are smoked, and gallons 
of good beer consumed at these gatherings, and the 
landlord is always on the side of the boys when 
there is any trouble, and rejoices in all their collegiate 
honors and their success in every other line. 

Upon the shelves above the tables are long rows 
of individual beer mugs, with the owners' names or 
crests conspicuously painted in gay colors upon 
them. These mugs vary in capacity from a pint to 
two quarts, and the host assures me gravely that 
many of the students drain even the largest ones 
nine or ten times in the course of an evening. I 
ponder, as he speaks, upon the wonderful power 
of expansion of the human stomach which performs 
this feat. 

As a natural consequence of this enormous appe- 
tite for beer, one sees in the restaurants in many of 
the German cities an especial table constructed with 
a deep semicircular curve in the side, which allows 




Not far off stands Uie statue of the artist." [See /^tige 2S4.) 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 289 

the corpulent guest to drink his favorite beverage 
in comfortable proximity to the bottle. Such as 
these must have been in Shakespeare's mind, when 
he wrote: "He was a man of an unbounded 
stomach." 

The deep cuts and scars upon the faces of many 
of the students, are matters of great pride with 
them, as evidences of the number of "affairs of 
honor " in which they have been engaged. They 
look with scorn upon the fellow collegian whose 
countenance does not display one or more of these 
signs of bloody combat, and are always ready to 
seize an occasion of this kind for the exhibition of 
their bravery or their skill at arms. Sometimes 
these duels are a result of the silliest arguments, at 
others they are sought by deliberate insult given by 
the one who wishes to fight. A glance is some- 
times sufficient for a sanguinary meeting. 

Will they ever learn that no stain can ever be 
washed out with blood, no honor redeemed by the 
sword, no moral bravery displayed by an encounter 
of this kind ? It is falling to the level of the brute, 
with perhaps a little more skill evinced in the choice 
of the weapons of warfare. It cannot but detract 
from the dignity of the human being, and this is 
true to a far greater extent in the case of those who 



290 Odd Bits of Travel 

entertain themselves by witnessing such unnatural 
sports as prize fights, cock fights, and most degrad- 
ing of all, but thank heaven a rare sight in civilized 
countries, the bull fight; — all relics of barbarism. 

Let us leave this unpleasant subject, however, and 
allow ourselves to be spirited away to a veritable 
fairy land of beauty, and quaint legendary associa- 
tions. The little town of Konigswinter nestles at 
the foot of the Seven Mountains, from which there 
are innumerable views of the Rhine and the sur- 
rounding country. A halo of romance surrounds 
this region, and in the many excursions from this 
point, the lover of the wierd and visionary will 
find his every step accompanied by imaginary 
maidens of rare grace and beauty, brave knights, 
crafty priests, wild huntsmen, cruel dragons, super- 
human heroes, and all the wonderful personages of 
legendary lore. The town is a thriving, modern 
looking place of about thirty-five hundred inhabit- 
ants, excluding the floating population of tourists 
who throng the hotels and scatter themselves 
among the private families. 

We arrive here early in the afternoon, and estab- 
lish ourselves in a comfortable and attractive hotel. 
The day is clear and pleasant, and desiring to make 
good use of the hours of daylight before us, we de- 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 291 

termine to make the ascent of the Drachenfels. 
There are a number of different routes or paths, by 
which one may reach the summit of this mountain 
on foot; or, should the tourist prefer to ride, he can 
use the Mountain Railway which approaches the 
top in a line almost straight. Protected by stout 
shoes, carrying wraps, and armed with long and 
strong wooden staffs, we walk slowly along the 
mountain road, pausing at intervals to gaze upon 
the beautiful scenes which surround us in every 
direction. The great peak known as the Drachen- 
fels or Dragon rock, in which from the river a vast 
cavern may be seen, owes its name to the numerous 
legends which are connected with it. In the cave, 
it is said, lived a terrible monster who daily de- 
manded of the people the sacrifice of a young 
maiden, who was bound and decorated with flow- 
ers, and placed near the entrance to his lair. Sieg- 
fried slew the dragon and by bathing in his blood, 
became invulnerable. The maiden whose life he 
thus saved was Hildegarde, the beautiful daughter 
of the Lord of Drachenfels, whom he afterward 
married and bore to the castle whose crumbling and 
picturesque ruins seem to cling to the lofty crag, 
fifteen hundred feet above the Rhine. This castle 
was once a mighty stronghold of the robber chief- 



292 Odd Bits of Travel 

tains; its foundation is associated with Arnold, 
Archbishop of Cologne at the beginning of the 
twelfth century, who in 1 149 bestowed it upon the 
Cassius Monastery at Bonn. It was held as a fief by 
the counts of the castle. 

Henry, Count of Drachenfels, furnished the chap- 
ter of the Cathedral of Cologne with the stone for 
its construction from a quarry which from this fact 
still bears the name of Dombruch, or cathedral 
quarry. In the Thirty Years' War the half-ruined 
castle was occupied by the Svv^edes, but was be- 
sieged and taken from them by Duke Ferdinand of 
Bavaria, Elector of Cologne, who completed its de- 
struction. 

The cliff is now surmounted by a beautiful new 
castle, the Drachenburg, built in 1883 for the Baron 
von Sarter. It is in the Gothic style, and is elabo- 
rately decorated with frescoes and stained glass. 
The upper part of the mountain is covered with 
trees below the cliff, the lower part with grape- 
vines, while along the banks of the Rhine at its 
foot are picturesque cottages, nestling among trees 
and vines. The Drachenfels is the loftiest of the 
Seven Mountains, and its summit commands one of 
the finest prospects on the Rhine. In the ruins of 
the old castle, ingenious and progressive man has 




" The great peak known as the Diachenfels, or Dragon Rock." 

* [See /a^e ^9^-) 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 295 

seen fit to ignore sentiment, and thrust a modern 
restaurant, where in spite of his shocked sensibili- 
ties, the weary traveller may in return for German 
marks, rest and refresh himself with sparkling wine 
which is famous for its fine quality and flavor, while 
the cool breezes fan his brow and soothe his excited 
brain. 

One lingers long, dazzled by the splendor of this 
superb view. Mountains and valley, river and is- 
lands unite in a glorious picture which entrances the 
soul, and thrills the heart with gladness; while the 
pure, bracing mountain air, laden with the perfume 
of the grape, fills the lungs with " a perpetual feast 
of nectar's sweets." 

Many tourists surround us, and we hear a perfect 
babel of tongues: French, English, German and 
other languages greet our ears, assuring us that 
visitors from all parts of the world are enjoying 
this magnificent panorama with us. 

What a pity the camera will not encompass the 
wonderful scene. 

" The castled crag of Draclienfels 

Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, 
Whose breast of waters broadly swells 

Between the banks which bear the vine ; 
And hills all riched with blossom'd trees, 
And fields which promise corn and wine ; 



296 Odd Bits of Travel 

And scatter'd cities crowning these, 

Whose fair white walls along them shine, 
Have strew" d a scene which I should see, 
"With double joy wert thou with me." 

Several of the Siebengebirge are visible toward 
the east, the basaltic heights sloping toward the 
Rhine. Just below are Rhondorf, Honnef, Rhein- 
breitbach, Unkel, and Erpel; on the left bank of the 
river are Remagen and the Gothic church on the 
Apollinarisberg, with the heights of the Eifel and 
the ruin of Olbrilck Castle on a height of 1,550 feet. 
In the neighborhood are Oberwinter, the islands of 
Grafenwerth and Nonnenworth and the beautiful 
ruins of Rolandseck with its surrounding villas and 
gardens. To the right, one may behold Kreuzberg, 
Bonn and even the city of Cologne in the distance. 

It seems as though one could gaze upon this 
scene of grandeur and beauty forever. As twilight 
falls, the picture receives a new and entrancing sub- 
Hmity. "The weary sun hath made a golden set," 
and silently the sparkling stars appear, one by one, 
while the deepening shadows blend the scene into 
a vast harmonious whole which seems to draw the 
soul up to the very threshold of heaven. 

We descend the mountain rather silently, unwil- 
ling to break the impression made by our journey, 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 297 

and slowly through the gloom make our way back 
to the hotel. 

While sitting upon the porch in the evening, sur- 
rounded by the majestic watch towers of the Rhine, 
and expatiating on the pleasures of the day, we 
suddenly hear a rich full chorus, harmoniously sung 
by at least one hundred male and female voices. 
The singers are invisible, and the notes seem to 
float out from one of the neighboring mountain 
caves. We all listen with delight to the sounds, 
which now approaching nearer, convince us that 
the singers are not the denizens of another world, 
but are beings of flesh and blood like ourselves, in 
the distance we can discern a procession of gay and 
jovial students with their sweethearts at their sides. 
The young men are carrying lighted torches and 
lanterns which illuminate them and the road, and are 
merrily singing the popular glees and college songs 
as they wend their way to the boat landing close 
by. 

The party is returning from a German students' 
picnic, and as they board the little steamer, which 
immediately leaves her moorings, the air is rent by 
cheer after cheer, and we hear the gay laughter and 
happy voices long after the boat has disappeared 
from our eyes down the silent flowing river. Such 



298 Odd Bits of Travel 

is the German student life, and sucli is the character 
of the German people : not averse to pleasure, so- 
ciable, jovial, kind and happy. 

We rise early this morning, and partake of a good 
German breakfast; and of what do you suppose a 
good German breakfast consists ? Dishes of greasy 
sausage or bacon swimming in its own gravy, kale 
or saurkraut, onions and hot sauces, potatoes 
soaked in lard; black bread which has also been 
soaked in lard to save the expense of butter: and 
all this washed down with innumerable mugs of 
beer or Rhine wine, with a "thank heaven" when 
the unsavory repast can no longer offend our eyes 
or olfactories? No, my dear friend; our breakfast 
is a most agreeable contrast to the picture just drawn. 
We are served with deliciously cooked steak and 
chops, and the connoisseur of any nationality would 
not disdain these meats or the daintily prepared 
chicken, coffee and fresh rolls. The eggs are fresh 
and not underdone: one can find no fault with the 
butter or the sweet new milk, and it is with a feel- 
ing of great satisfaction that we rise from the table 
at the close of the meal, and exclaim that we have 
had a breakfast " fit for a king." 

A small steamer with an upper deck waits at the 
landing to convey passengers and a limited amount 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 299 

of freight from Konigswinter to Bingen. It is ten 
o'clock when we step on this attractive httie boat 
with our numerous wraps and parcels. We are 
well laden, for the camera occupies one hand, and is 
always ready for an unexpected shot at some 
picturesque figure, group, building or landscape. 
And I will here say to the tourist who wishes to il- 
lustrate his notes, that it is best to keep camera and 
sketch book handy, for you little know what fine 
opportunities are missed while you are stopping to 
unstrap your needed friend. Let your sketching 
outfit hang over your shoulder, and as to the camera, 
have one which will respond to your touch within 
five seconds, or you will lose many a scene of 
beauty which otherwise would rejoice the hearts of 
friends at home. We are much amused at the 
bulky apparatus of a friend, which is always carried 
neatly strapped in its box, while mine hangs over my 
shoulder, ready to snap instantly to a demand upon 
it. The difference in the result of the two methods 
is that I have a collection of many valuable pictures, 
while our friend spends most of his time strapping 
and unstrapping his camera. The day is chilly and 
threatening, and as we leave the landing, we find 
ourselves in a heavy fog, much to my disappoint- 
ment, for I have anticipated great pleasure in seeing 



3oo Odd Bits of Travel 

and photographing the many beautiful ruins of old 
castles and the landscape along our route. How- 
ever as the mist lightens now and then, I "shoot" 
away here and there with as much ardor as the cir- 
cumstances will allow: not idly or carelessly, as the 
enthusiastic amateur, reckless of plates and results, 
but at unquestionably fine points, such as lofty 
castles and picturesque mountains, half fearing 
sometimes that in spite of my precautions the longed- 
for view will prove but a blur upon my plate. It 
is. bold indeed to attempt to capture such sublime 
pictures with such faulty exposures. 

The country around Konigswinter is extremely 
beautiful. Upon both sides of the Rhine rise the 
lofty peaks of the wooded mountains, with in al- 
most every case a ruined castle upon the summit. 
How noble and defiant is the appearance of these 
venerable fortresses with their eventful histories 
and wonderful legends. Here near Remagen within 
full view of the river is the church dedicated to St. 
Apollinaris, at one time a great resort for pilgrims. 
It is said to be beautifully decorated with ancient 
and modern works of art; the view from the church 
tower so charmed the artist who first ornamented 
it that he painted his portrait upon the tower that 
his eyes might forever look upon the mountains and 




How noble and defiant is the appearance of these venerable fortresses." 

{See page joo.) 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 303 

valleys and follow the winding course of the glis- 
tening river. Near the church, at the foot of the 
mountain, is the celebrated Apollinaris fountain, 
whose waters are bottled and sent to all parts of the 
world for their medicinal properties. 

At times the blue breaks through the clouds, and 
then the pictures are surpassingly lovely. The 
castles in their sorrowful majesty are very imposing: 
they are generally built of stone, are of fine archi- 
tectural design, and are frequently the centre of 
charming old gardens, or are embowered in trees 
and shrubbery. Here they stand year after year, 
looking down upon the ever youthful river. Some 
of them are occupied, while others are desolate 
ruins. 

" High towers, fair temples, 
Strong walls, rich porches, princely palaces. 
All these (oh pity), now are turned to dust, 
And overgrown with black oblivion's rust." 

One can hardly realize the grandeur of this scen- 
ery. Every turn of the river presents a different 
view: it is an ever varying kaleidoscope of natural 
beauty. Now we behold the mountains with their 
masses of foliage reaching to the very summits; 
now the charming village amid its vineyards, with 
its odd little church surrounded by picturesque frame 



304 Odd Bits of Travel 

houses with plain roofs and quaint gables. While 
sitting silently on deck gazing upon the old castles 
and ever changing scenes which border this beauti- 
ful body of water, I hear solemn tones proceeding 
from the belfry of an old church, and behold a little 
procession of mourners slowly following the hearse 
which is bearing the remains of some loved relative 
or friend to their final resting-place; — a pathetic little 
group walking sadly along through the drenching 
rain from the church to the burying ground. 

One is compelled to notice here the numerous 
signs with huge letters emblazoned upon them, in- 
forming the passers-by that here are bottled popular 
waters of medicinal qualities. The tottering estab- 
lishments are, I observe, close to the water's edge, 
and whether or not the Rhine contributes the 
greater part in the composition of these famous 
waters is an open question. However it may be, 
the waters, or mineral springs, of genuine virtue or 
otherwise, are the source of a considerable profit in 
this region. Water as a beverage is seldom used 
by the Germans, for the light Rhine wines are to 
be had in perfection at a trifling cost. 

We glide along, passing island and vineyard, and 
castle crowned height, with now and then a wide 
curve in the river, which looks with its smiling face 




" Every turn of the river presents a different view." [See page joj^ 



Along the Banks of the Rhine 307 

to-day much as it did centuries ago when the old 
strongholds reared up their piles of masonry in regal 
splendor, and noble retinues defiled down the nar- 
row mountain paths to the water's edge. 

"Thou, unchanged from year to year 
Gayly shalt play and glitter here ; 
Amid young flowers and tender grass, 
Thine endless infancy shalt pass ; 
And, singing down thy narrow glen, 
Shall mock the fading race of men." 



From Bingen on the Rhine 
to Frankfort-on-the-Main. 




Now we behold the Htlle church surrounded by picturesque houses." 

{See page joj.) 



From Bitigen on the Rhine to Frankfort-on- 
the-Matn* 

Vast Vineyards — Bingen — The Hotel — The Down Quilt — A Ger- 
man Maid — Taverns — The Mouse Tower — Riidesheim — 
Niederwald — The Rheingau — The National Monument — 
The Castle of Niederburg — "Wine Vaults — The River — Street 
Musicians — A Misunderstanding — Frankfort-on-the-Main — 
The Crossing of the Ford — A Free City — Monument of Goethe 
— History — A Convocation of Bishops — The City — Monument 
of Gutenberg — The House in which Rothschild was Born — 
Luther. 




FTER leaving Konigswinter, we pass vast 
vineyards on both sides of the Rhine, and 
as v/e approach Bingen we see them cov- 
ering the whole mountain-side. Among 
the vines may be seen what seem like steps encir- 
cling the mountain to its very summit, but which 
in reality are roads or paths through the vineyard. 
The sturdy and prolific vines grow close to these 
walks. In this section of the country the greatest 
care is given to grape culture, hence in Bingen is to 
be found the finest wine made in the country. In 
this region are located great breweries and wine 
vaults extending into the mountain-sides for hun- 

313 



314 Odd Bits of Travel 

dreds of feet. On arriving at Bingen we proceed 
at once to the Victoria Hotel, a quiet house situated 
at a convenient distance from both railroad station 
and steamboat landing. The charges are moderate, 
and the accommodations good. 

Upon entering our sleeping apartment, I observe 
upon the beds huge fluffy quilts stuffed with soft 
feathers, and forming a pile at least two feet in 
thickness, which covers the entire surface from 
bolster to footboard. This ominous appearance 
fills me with strange forebodings and wondering 
thoughts. I say to myself: " God made the country, 
and man made the town, but who on earth has 
manufactured these monstrous counterpanes, and 
for what purpose?" Surely not for ornament, for 
they are the most unsightly objects I have ever 
beheld in the line of needlework, and look as if 
intended to smother hydrophobia patients. But as 
few dogs are seen hereabout, this does not seem 
probable. The appearance of a smiling innocent- 
faced chambermaid interrupts my meditations. 
She informs me that these great masses of feathers 
are used to keep the body warm at night. I con- 
clude from this that the Germans are a cold-blooded 
people, since such a slaughter of the " feathery 
tribe " is necessary to maintain their normal tern- 




':f$a0lS 




Approaching Bingen we see vineyards covering the mountain side." 

(■See/ai^ej/j.) 



From Bingen on the Rhine 317 

perature when in a state of repose. As night ad- 
vances, I summon up courage to crawl under this 
fluffy mountain, and in a few moments feel as if a 
great loaf of freshly-baked bread is lying upon me. 
The heat is intense, and makes me think of " Eternal 
torments, baths of boiling sulphur, vicissitudes of 
fires." I cast it off, and as the nights are chilly, soon 
find myself too cool. But I will not allow the enemy 
to return and overpower me, for there is much to 
be seen hereabout on the morrow, and I know that 
overgrown spread would absorb all the strength 
reserved for the occasion. Placing my steamer rug 
upon the bed, I am soon oblivious to all surround- 
ings and happy in a land of pleasant dreams. 

This house is indeed delightfully located in the 
midst of a beautiful country. Bingen is a lovely 
town at the entrance of the romantic Nahe valley, 
looking out upon mountain, glen and river on 
every side, upon lofty castles and vine-embowered 
cottages. Quaint narrow streets and ancient build- 
ings, whose history is buried in the distant cen- 
turies, tempt the lover of the picturesque to linger 
in this neighborhood. The place was known to 
the Romans, who erected a castle here, which was 
destroyed by the French in 1689, but which has 
been restored and extended. There is a beautiful 



3i8 Odd Bits of Travel 

view from the tower, and footpaths ascend to it 
both from the Nahe and the Rhine. 

Here are old historic taverns, whose floors are 
composed of large slabs of stone. The primitive 
chairs and tables are of rude workmanship, and de- 
void of paint or style, but heavy and strong enough 
to support the weary travellers who resort thither. 

We wander about, revelling in nature's enchant- 
ing pictures, and rejoicing in the mysterious atmos- 
phere of the dense forests, which form the back- 
ground. The smiling river, with its silver sheen 
beneath the moon, or its golden reflections of the 
setting sun, is ever an inspiration and a suggestion 
for some new trip or point of vantage. Yes, here 
are scenes for the artist, and pictures ready for the 
camera. Here too, on a quartz rock in the middle 
of the Rhine is the Mouse Tower which is said to 
owe its name to the well-known legend of the 
cruel Archbishop Hatto of Mayence. 

In the year 914, a protracted rain ruined the har- 
, vest in this region, and a terrible famine ensued 
among the poor people, who in their distress finally 
applied to the archbishop, as his granaries were 
overflowing with the harvests of former years. 
But the hard-hearted prelate would not listen to 
them. At last they wearied him so with their im- 



From Bingen on the Rhine 319 

portunities, that he bade them assemble in an empty 
barn, promising to meet them on a certain day and 
quiet their demands. 

Delighted with the prospect of relief, the people 
gathered on the appointed day in such numbers 
that the barn was soon filled. The archbishop 
ordered his servants to fasten all the doors and 
windows so that none could escape, and then set 
fire to the building, declaring that they were as 
troublesome as rats, and should perish in the same 
way. 

The following day, when the bishop entered his 
dining-room, he found that the rats had gnawed his 
recently finished portrait from the frame, and it lay 
in a heap of fragments on the floor. While he 
stood gazing at it a messenger burst into the room 
with the news that a great army of fierce looking 
rats were coming toward the castle. Without a 
moment's delay the archbishop flung himself on a 
horse and rode rapidly away followed by thousands 
of rats ail animated by the revengeful spirits of the 
starving population he had burned. He had scarcely 
dismounted and entered a small boat on the Rhine, 
when the rats fell upon his horse and devoured it. 
Rowing to his tower in the middle of the Rhine, he 
locked himself in, thinking he had escaped his vo- 



320 Odd Bits of Travel 

racious foes; but the rats boldly swam across the 
Bingerloch, and gnawed thousands of holes in the 
tower, through which they rushed to their victim. 
Southey in his ballad, thus describes their entrance 
into the tower: 

" And in at the windows, and in at the door, 
And through the walls, helter-skelter they pour, 
And down from the ceihng, and up from the floor, 
From the right and the left, from behind and before, 
From within and without, from above and below, 
And all at once to the bishop they go. 

"They have whetted their teeth against the stones, 
And now they pick the bishop's bones ; 
They knawed the flesh from every limb. 
For they were sent to do judgment on him." 

This is the old legend; but now comes the 
searcher after truth with the information that the 
tower was in reality erected in the middle ages as a 
watch tower, and the name is derived from the old 
German "musen," to spy. These ruins were again 
converted into a station for signalling steamers, 
which in descending the Rhine are required to 
slacken speed here when other vessels are coming 
up the river. 

Taking one of the small steamboats which run 
from Bingen to the opposite bank, we land at the 
little town of Rudesheim which lies at the base of 



From Bingen on the Rhine 321 

the mountain. This old town is one of the most 
famous on the river, not only for its wines but for 
the legend of the beautiful Gisela, who was com- 
manded by her father to become a nun in fulfill- 
ment of his vow made in Palestine during the 
crusade against the Saracens. The maiden had a 
lover, and finding that no entreaties could save her 
from her fate, Gisela leaped from a tower into the 
river, and the fishermen declare that her spirit still 
lingers about the Bingerloch, and her voice is often 
heard amid the rushing torrent. 

The first vineyards here are said to have been 
planted by Charlemagne, who observed that the 
snow disappeared earlier from the hills behind the 
town than from other regions in the neighborhood. 
The Riidesheimer Berg is covered with walls and 
arches, and terrace rises above terrace, to prevent 
the falling of the soil. 

We drive to the top of this charming hill whose 
sunny slopes are clothed with vineyards. Upon the 
summit, as on most of the others in the neighbor- 
hood, there is a hotel with grounds prettily laid out, 
and here one may remain and enjoy the pure air 
and enchanting views, for a day, a week, or for the 
whole season. 

Here, too, is the National Monument, in describ- 



322 



Odd Bits of Travel 



ing which I will copy the words of my guide 
book: 

"The National Monument on the Niederwald, 
erected in commemoration of the unanimous rising 
of the people and the foundation of the new Ger- 
man Empire in 1870-71, stands upon a projecting 
spur of the hill (980 feet above the sea level; 740 
feet above the Rhine), opposite Bingen, and is con- 
spicuous far and wide. It was begun in 1877 from 
the designs of Professor Schilling of Dresden, and 
was inaugurated in 1883 in presence of Emperor 
William I. and numerous other German princes. 
The huge architectural basis is seventy-eight feet 
high, v/hile the noble figure of Germania, with the 
imperial crown and the laurel-wreathed sword, an 
emblem of the unity and strength of the empire, is 
thirty-three feet in height. The principal relief on 
the side of the pedestal facing the river, symbolizes 
the 'Wacht am Rhein.' It contains portraits of 
King William of Prussia and other German princes 
and generals, together with representatives of the 
troops from the different parts of Germany, with 
the text of the famous song below; to the right and 
left are allegorical figures of Peace and War, while 
below are Rhenus and Mosella, the latter as the 
future guardian of the western frontier of the em- 



From Bingen on the Rhine 323 

pire. The fine reliefs on the sides of the pedestal 
represent the departure and the return of the 
troops." 

We visit many of the most noted breweries and 
wine vaults in the neighborhood. Those of Herr 
J, Hufnagel are the largest in this section of the 
country. They are cut in the base of the moun- 
tain, and extend inward many hundred feet. Here 
the choice wines are stored, many of the enormous 
casks containing upwards of twenty thousand 
quarts. Hundreds of barrels and hogsheads are 
seen; in fact every nook and corner of the vault is 
filled, and so extensive is this subterranean apart- 
ment, that avenues are made from one part to an- 
other, and along these we walk, the guide bearing 
a lamp to light the way. 

After visiting these great storerooms, we are in- 
vited to the hotel of the proprietor, which is close 
by, and on the porch we are served with an enjoy- 
able lunch flavored with choice German wine. 

There is a beautiful drive along the river bank, 
and if one is tired, he may stop at one of the invit- 
ing restaurants in this neighborhood, and while 
resting and refreshing himself, look out at the tour- 
ists and others passing along the wide airy street, 
or as is a common custom, he may have his 



324 Odd Bits of Travel 

luncheon served upon the porch, from which there 
is a delightful and extended view of the Rhine. 
With plenty of shade and comfortable chairs, and 
the beautiful river before us, how swiftly the time 
passes! Sometimes, in consequence of our igno- 
rance of the language, laughable mistakes are made 
in the ordering of our meals, which seem to increase 
the jollity of both the waiters and our party. On 
one of these occasions, while eating our luncheon 
in the open air, a band of eight or ten street musi- 
cians station themselves upon the porch but a few 
feet from us. They are healthy, hearty-looking 
men, but contrary to our previous experience in this 
country, they play the most inharmonious airs. 
We endure this for a short time, then as the dis- 
cordant sounds become more and more annoying, 
we bestow upon the leader a number of small coins, 
and entreat them to begone. They evidently mis- 
understand us, and think, from our liberal contribu- 
tion, that we appreciate their efforts, for they con- 
tinue their playing with increased vigor and — discord. 
We do not wish to leave our pleasant quarters, so 
resign ourselves to the situation. After repeating 
their repertoire, which seems endless, with profuse 
smiling bows and thanks they leave us at last to the 
peaceful enjoyment of the day. 



From Bingen on the Rhine 325 

The Niederberg is a massive rectangular castle 
whose three vaulted stories, belonging to Ihe twelfth 
century, were joined to the remains of a structure 
of earlier date. It was originally the seat of the 
Knights of Rudesheim, who were compelled to be- 
come vassals of the Archbishop of Mayence. for 
brigandage. 

At Rudesheim begins the Rheingau, which is the 
very "vineyard " of this country. Here every foot 
of ground is cultivated, and the grape is the mon- 
arch of the land. All the hillsides are covered with 
the vines, and here in the midst of the verdure ap- 
pears the picturesque villa of the planter or wine 
merchant. It is a rich and beautiful region. 

From Bingen and Rudesheim we go to Frank- 
fort-on-the-Main. This town which has witnessed 
the coronation of many of the German emperors, is 
noted for its ancient legends, and to one of these it 
is said it owes its name. This is the story: Charle- 
magne, having penetrated into the forests to wage 
war against the Saxons, was once compelled to re- 
treat with his brave Franks. A heavy fog lay over 
the country which was unknown to him.~ Fearing 
that his little army would be cut to pieces if he lin- 
gered, and unable to see more than a few feet ahead 
of him, Charlemagne prayed to the Lord for help 



326 Odd Bits of Travel 

and guidance. The next moment the heavy fog 
parted, and the emperor saw a doe leading her 
young through the stream. He instantly called to 
his men, and they forded the river in safety. The 
fog closed behind them and hid them from the pur- 
suing enemy. 

In commemoration of his deliverance, Charle- 
magne called the place Frankford (the ford of the 
Franks), and the city which grew up shortly after- 
ward retained the name. 

This, one of the important cities of Germany, is 
said to have been a small Roman military station in 
the first century, a. d. 

It is first mentioned as Franconoford and the seat 
of the royal residence in 793; and the following 
year Charlemagne held a convocation of bishops 
and dignitaries of the empire here. The town at- 
tained such a degree of prosperity that in 876, at 
the death of Lewis the German, it was looked upon 
as the capital of the east Franconian Empire. On 
the dissolution of the empire in 1806, Frankfort 
was made over to the Primate of the Rhenish Con- 
federation, and in 1810 it became the capital of the 
grand-duchy of Frankfort. 

It was one of the four free cities of the German 
Confederation, and the seat of the Diet from 181 5 



From Bingen on the Rhine 327 

to 1866, in which year it passed to Prussia. To-day 
we find it a handsome city of two hundred and 
twenty-nine thousand inhabitants, vv'ith beautiful 
streets, stately houses surrounded by lovely gar- 
dens, and fine stores, parks, monuments and many 
attractions for the tourist. Here are churches, 
theatres, libraries and museums, and an opera 
house which will accommodate two thousand 
spectators. 

In the Rossmarkt stands the monument of Guten- 
berg, which consists of three figures, Gutenberg in 
the centre with Fust and Schoffer on either side, 
upon a large sandstone pedestal. On the frieze are 
portrait heads of celebrated printers, and in the 
niches beneath are the arms of the four towns 
where printing was first practiced: Mayence, 
Frankfort, Venice and Strassburg. Around the 
base are figures representing Theology, Poetry, 
Natural Science and Industry. This monument 
was erected in 1858. 

This is the birthplace of Goethe, and here is the 
house in which the poet was born, with its inscrip- 
tion recording that event, (August 28, 1749). The 
handsome monument of Goethe, erected in 1844, 
twelve years after his death adorns the Goethe- 
Platz. The pedestal of the monument bears alle- 



328 Odd Bits of Travel 

gorical figures in relief in front, while on the sides 
are figures from the poems of the great writer. 

There are twenty-three thousand Jews in Frank- 
fort, and in the quarter to which these people are 
limited, we are shown the house in which the Sen- 
ior Rothschild was born. It is an unassuming brick 
building of three stories, in good repair. As I gaze 
upon this modest dwelling, I think of the man who 
from such unpromising beginning, became the 
founder of the greatest financial firm the world has 
known. 

There is a stone effigy of Luther not far from the 

Cathedral, in memory of a tradition that the great 

reformer preached a sermon here on his journey to 

Worms. It is true that these associations are to be 

found in almost every European town ; but none 

the less are we impressed as we stand before the 

monuments of the great ones of the earth — the men 

who have left their indelible marks — "footprints on 

the sands of time" — which the years have no power 

to efface. These men must have truly lived. 

" }ie most lives 
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best." 

The Cathedral of Frankford is a conspicuous 
edifice towering above the other buildings, quaint 
and picturesque in spite of a lack of harmony in 



From Bingen on the Rhine 329 

many of its details. From the platform of the 
tower, one may have a beautiful view of the city, 
with its thick border of trees, and of the fields and 
meadows beyond along the shining waters of the 
Main. This Church of St. Bartholomew was 
founded by Lewis the German in 852, and was re- 
built in the Gothic style 1235-39. The different por- 
tions represent various periods. The tower, left 
unfinished in 1512, now three hundred and twelve 
feet high, was completed from the designs of the 
architect which were discovered in the municipal 
archives. 



A Prussian Capital and 

a Fashionable Resort. 



A Prussian Capital and a Fashionable 
Resort* 

We Start for Berlin — Mountain andValley — Harvesters — Villages — 
A Great City — Unter den Linden — Kroll Theatre and Garden 
— The City Streets — Ostend — A Fashionable Watering Dace 
— The Promenade — The Kursaal — On the Beach — Bathing 
Machines — Studies for an Artist — The Race Course — Sunday 
— The Winning Horse — Fickle Dame Fortune — The English 
Channel — A Bureau of Information — Queenstown — An Irish 
Lass — The Last Stop — The End of the Journey. 




HE journey from Frankfort to Berlin is 
through a pleasant and interesting country. 
For many miles we look from the car 
windows upon an undulating landscape: 
hills and valleys follow each other in rapid succes- 
sion as our train dashes along at the rate of a mile a 
minute. Now and then we pass men and women 
in the fields; and now young girls with bare feet 
and short skirts busily raking the hay, — true pictures 
of "Maud Muller on a summer day." And here is 
a whole group of "nut brown maids" laughing 
merrily at their work, while over in a corner of the 

field is the belle of the countryside listening shyly 
333 



334 Odd Bits of Travel 

to -the stalwart young harvester who stands on the 
border of the adjoining meadow. 

" Her tresses loose behind 
Play on her neck and wanton with the wind ; 
The rising blushes which her cheeks o'erspread 
Are opening roses in the hly's bed." 

Now we pass the harvesters at rest, sitting under 
the green trees and hedges with their dinner pails 
beside them. It is a pleasant, peaceful picture. 
Here is a picturesque village with quaint looking 
houses, and a little gurgling brook in the fore- 
ground. An echo from the distant mountain an- 
swers the shrill whistle of our engine and we can 
see the silvery cloud of smoke that follows us 
wander off to the right, then fade away in misty 
fragments. In many of these settlements, there are 
shaded nooks where tables and chairs are placed, 
and here the villagers are sipping their beer, in 
happy social converse. 

The young people wave their hands and caps to 
us as we pass, and with their bright costumes ani- 
mate the lovely scenes which, although so close to 
each other, are of such different character. At last 
we reach Berlin, and our great iron horse stands 
puffing in the station, defying man to detect upon 
him any sign of exhaustion. 



A Prussian Capital 335 

In this large city entertainment can be found for 
people of every kind and taste. Thie street known 
througliout the world as Unter-den-Linden is a 
splendid avenue, one hundred and sixty-five feet in 
width, and takes its name from the double row of 
linden trees with which it is ornamented. It is the 
busiest portion of the city, contains handsome 
hotels, beautiful palaces, large shops, and many fine 
statues of celebrated men. 

The first day or two after your arrival in the city, 
engage a carriage and take in the general appear- 
ance of the city, its parks and suburbs; then visit 
the art galleries, museums, palaces and churches 
until the brain becomes accustomed to the bewilder- 
ing array of subjects which demand attention. 
Stroll quietly along Unter-den-Linden stopping 
now and then at one of the many stores which line 
this beautiful avenue. At one end of this thorough- 
fare is the celebrated Brandenburg Gate, a sort of 
triumphal arch. It is a fine structure, two hundred 
feet wide and seventy-five feet high, supported by 
Doric columns. There are five entrances, the central 
one being reserved for the passage of members of 
the royal family. 

The KroU Theatre and Gardens are a popular re- 
sort for the people of Berlin. These gardens are 



336 Odd Bits of Travel 

illuminated every evening by thousands of electric 
lights, arranged in various designs, as flowers, 
harps and other graceful forms, and this illuminated 
scene is the centre of a gay throng of pleasure seek- 
ers, who promenade the paths, or sit about in 
groups listening to the music of the fine orchestras 
stationed at each end of the spacious grounds. The 
entertainment is not over until a very late hour. 

There are a number of these gardens throughout 
the city, which are not, as may be supposed, fre- 
quented by the lower classes of the people, but by 
persons of every rank in society. One can hardly 
appreciate this scene without having passed an 
evening amid its light-hearted crowds. Here may 
be seen officers of many honors, with conspicuous 
gold and silver badges, mingling with the groups 
gathered around the tables, or sauntering up and 
down the garden walks, as well as the private sol- 
dier in his regimentals happily quaffing his beer 
with his sweetheart by his side. Title and rank 
here as well as elsewhere throughout Germany, are 
honored and respected by all classes, and the salute 
is gracefully made whenever one of the army or 
navy men meets his superior officer. 

Berlin with its life and gayety, its grandeur and 
simplicity, its hospitality and good cheer, captivates 




Thousands of fashionably dressed people appear upon this promenade." 

{See page 34S.) 



A Prussian Capital 339 

our hearts, and we enter joyously into the many 
diversions it offers; as we sit among the honest 
and kind-hearted people, we feel the charm of their 
social atmosphere and wonder why other nations 
do not allow themselves more time for relaxation 
and the simple pleasures which abound here. 

The Friedrichs-Strasse is the longest street in the 
city: it is well laid out, and contains many hand- 
some stores. Wilhelms-Strasse is a beautiful 
avenue, and is considered the most aristocratic 
street in Berlin, as it contains the palaces of princes, 
ministers and other distinguished personages. A 
handsome square opens from this avenue, orna- 
mented with flower-beds and fine statuary. 

The museums here are called the Old Museum 
and the New Museum; they are connected by a 
passage gallery. The entrance to the Old Museum 
is adorned by handsome statuary, and the grand 
portico is beautifully painted with allegorical and 
mythological subjects: within, the walls are deco- 
rated with frescoes representing barbarous and civi- 
lized life, and in the great rotunda are ancient stat- 
ues of gods and goddesses. From this one passes 
to the Gallery of Gods and Heroes, the Grecian 
cabinet, the Hall of the Emperors, and that of 
Greek, Roman and Assyrian sculptures. But it is 



340 Odd Bits of Travel 

vain to attempt a description of this vast collection 
of paintings, and otlier works of art in the short 
space 1 have to devote to the subject. To appreci- 
ate a collection of this kind, one should visit it in 
person. 

The Thiergarten is a great park, two miles long, 
beautifully laid out, and containing many splendid 
old trees, rustic paths, and artificial ponds and 
streams. The grounds are ornamented with statu- 
ary, and the fine zoological collection is in good 
condition and well arranged. But we must leave 
fascinating Berlin, and pass on to other scenes. 

Now we reach Ostend on the coast of Belgium, 
one of the most fashionable watering-places of 
Europe. During the season it attracts thousands of 
visitors, especially from Belgium and Holland. It 
was originally a fishing station, but was enlarged 
by Philip the Good, and fortified by the Prince of 
Orange in 1583, In the early part of the seven- 
teenth century it sustained one of the most remark- 
able sieges on record, holding out against the Span- 
ish for a period of three years, and finally surren- 
dering only at the command of the States General 

To-day promenades take the places of the old 
fortifications, and handsome residences stand where 
the simple sturdy fisherfolk once dwelt in their cot- 




There are many odd and fantastic sights here." [See page j4y.) 



A Prussian Capital 343 

tages. The tide of fashion rolls where a simple 
people lived their daily life of care and toil. Here 
congregate people of every nation, the old and the 
young; and the cosmopolitan character of the prom- 
enade is a source of great entertainment to the 
stranger. As we approach the Digue or chief 
promenade, which is elevated fully a hundred feet 
above the beach, we are struck with the beauty of 
this grand esplanade, a hundred feet wide and ex- 
tending miles along the shore. On the city side 
are many handsome buildings; residences, hotels, 
cafes and some stores. These buildings occupy a 
space fully a mile in length, but the promenade 
with its tiled pavement skirts the sea for many 
miles. Chairs and benches are placed at convenient 
intervals for the use of the public, and every day, 
especially in the afternoon, thousands of fashionably 
dressed people appear upon this walk, rejoicing in 
the opportunity to display elaborate gowns; some 
by strolling to and fro before the benches and 
chairs, and others by more ostentatiously driving 
by in handsome equipages, with coachmen and 
footmen in appropriate livery. 

Yet it is delightful to sit here on a clear evening, 
listening to the harmonious melody of the sea, as it 
mingles its voice with the strains of a fine orches- 



344 ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Travel 

tra, and watching the merry throng passing and re- 
passing. The silent night afar out on the glisten- 
ing waters seems like a brooding spirit. 

" Thou boundless, shining, glorious sea, 
"With ecstasy I gaze on thee ; 
And as I gaze, thy billowy roll 
Wakes the deep feelings of my soul." 

We extend our walk and take in the Kursaai, a 
handsome structure of marble and iron built upon 
the side of the promenade. It covers a large area, 
and within its walls, the sounds of choice music 
are constantly heard. Dances, concerts and many 
other forms of entertainment keep this fashionable 
resort in a whirl both day and night. On many of 
these occasions the dressing is the most important 
feature of the affair. The people who resort thither 
are families of considerable wealth, and can, when 
they choose, run to extremes in paying court to 
Dame Fashion. 

Let us descend about noon, by the long low 
steps, from the promenade to the beach below, and 
here we will find a long unbroken line of wagons 
facing the sea. These wagons have large numbers 
painted conspicuously on their backs: upon one 
side is a window with a curtain carelessly drawn, 
and a pair of strong shafts is attached to each ve- 





One's portfolio might soon \>e (illcil with interesting subjects." 



A Prussian Capital 347 

hide. The stranger will wonder what on earth 
these unsightly things are designed for, and why 
they thus mar the beauty of the beach. Have pa- 
tience; inexperienced stranger, and you will see 
these inanimate wagons suddenly break ranks and 
now one, now another be hauled rapidly forward, 
some to the water's edge, others into the ocean up 
to the hubs. In explanation of this I would state 
that when the bathing hour arrives, a horse is at- 
tached to each wagon, and the occupant or occu- 
pants, when it reaches the water's edge, open the 
door and spring forth a nymph and her compan- 
ions, in their scant bathing robes, ready for the 
plunge. The costumes of both men and women 
are not such as find favor with fastidious mortals, 
and many of the scenes witnessed on this beach 
would not be tolerated at any of our American 
watering-places. 

It is quite common for men, women and children 
to remove their shoes and stockings and wade ankle 
deep in the surf. 

However, there are many odd and fantastic sights 
here, and many pretty tableaux on the beach which 
would delight the eyes of an artist, and I often 
think that one's portfolio might soon be filled with 
interesting subjects. 



348 Odd Bits of Travel 

As the races are to be held this afternoon at the 
Course, a mile beyond the Kursaal, and just off the 
promenade, we wend our way thither. The race- 
course is similar to those in England and France. 
As the appointed hour approaches, a throng of fash- 
ionable people seat themselves upon the grand 
stand, until every place is filled, and even the aisles 
are crowded with the elite of Ostend, 

I forgot to mention the fact that the day is Sun- 
day, but this seems to make little difference to these 
gayety-loving people. 

The horses start, and now betting and excitement 

go hand in hand. 

" Some play for gain : to pass time, others play 
For nothing ; both do play the fool." 

I have the peculiar good fortune on this occasion, 
of predicting the winning horse a number of con- 
secutive times in my conversation with one of our 
party who sits beside me. These lucky guesses at- 
tract the attention of a stranger who is on my other 
side, and considering them as so many evidences of 
remarkable judgment or knowledge, he resolves to 
profit thereby. Accordingly before the next run- 
ning, as the horses walk slowly before the specta- 
tors and the judges' stand, the man quietly asks me 
to name the winner in the next race. I quickly 



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" Many typical Irish characters come aboard our vessel." {^^^ pcg^ 353-) 



A Prussian Capital 351 

make a choice and mention the horse's name. The 
stranger bids me good-day and hastens away to 
place his "pile" with some bookmaker on the 
identical horse which I have named. 

With a rush of spirit and courage the noble ani- 
mals fly over the course, and every jockey seated in 
a saddle looks determined to win. Faster and faster 
they urge the flying steeds with spur and voice, and 
the animals themselves, with distended nostrils and 
steaming breath dash past the judges' stand in 
frenzied effort. The merry jingle of the bell pro- 
claims that the goal is reached: the great sign-board 
with the winner's name upon it is visible to all. 
What has become of my luck ? And what has be- 
come of the stranger who relied on my judgment a 
few moments ago? My horse has lost. Goodness! 
1 feel as though I have committed a crime, and I am 
very sure that Dame Fortune receives from me in 
private a score of epithets, not the most complimen- 
tary in the world for her unprincipled desertion. 
I feel sure that if I had my instantaneous camera, 
or pencil handy, this disappointed man's face 
would make a foreground in the picture that would 
surely be a "winner." 

We leave Ostend on the steamer La Flandre. 
The schedule time is 10: 40 a. m. We go on board 



352 Odd Bits of Travel 

amid shouts of kindly farewell from our friends on 
shore. As it is a dear bright day with a delightful 
salt breeze, there is much pleasure in sitting on deck 
and enjoying the view. The English Channel is 
generally a turbulent body of water, noted for its 
many victories over the unfortunates who trust 
themselves in its power, but to-day it is mild and 
calm, probably plotting mischief to the next boat 
load of passengers that shall come its way. 

Indescribable confusion reigns in our hotel, at 
Liverpool, for more than a hundred of its guests are 
on the point of sailing for America. Innumerable 
packages, grips, umbrellas and walking sticks 
line the corridors. Every one is moving to and 
fro in hot haste. One lady asks me if I know at 
what hour the steamer on which she has taken pas- 
sage will sail: another wants information in regard to 
her steamer: a man with perspiration trickling down 
his face begs me to tell him how to send his five 
trunks and other baggage to the landing stage. 
These and many more annoying and importunate 
people make life a burden to me. I do not know 
why they choose me to share in their misery. Do 
I look like a walking bureau of information, 1 won- 
der! If I do, I shall learn how to change my ex- 
pression. But in truth the faces of these bewildered 



A Prussian Capital 353 

people are a study, and I am genuinely sorry for 
them. 

The steamer cuts loose from her moorings, and 
moves gracefully out into the great ocean. As we 
approach Queenstown, we observe the small farms 
and dwellings close to the edge of the water. 
Then the lighthouse and the forts which guard the 
entrance to the harbor come into view, and now 
we drop anchor and wait for passengers and the 
mails. A little steam tug becomes visible, and as 
she draws nearer, we learn that she is bearing the 
mails and passengers to our ship. At last she is 
close beside us, and when made fast, the transfer 
takes place. Now is the time for the camera or 
sketch book, for many typical Irish characters come 
aboard our vessel, with strange, half-frightened faces, 
and their worldly belongings carried on their backs, 
or clutched tightly in their hands. Among the 
group 1 notice a middle-aged woman with a young 
pig nestling peacefully under her arm. Whether it 
is a pet, or simply a piece of live stock to begin 
housekeeping v/ith in the new country, I cannot say, 
but with a contented expression on both faces, 
Bridget and her pig disappear into the special quar- 
ters which are reserved for the emigrants. This 
whole scene is very interesting. The old-fashioned 



354 ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ Travel 

black glazed oilcloth bag and trunk play a conspic- 
uous part in the picture, and here and there are 
seen bundles tied in red bandanna handkerchiefs 
and carried on the end of a stick, which is slung 
over the shoulder, while the corduroy knee breeches, 
woollen stockings, heavy shoes and pea-jackets with 
caps to match give us a fine representation of the 
Irishman on his native heath. 

Several small boats are floating at our side : from 
one of these a rope is thrown to a sailor on our 
deck, and a bright and comely Irish girl climbs 
nimbly up, hand over hand, and stands among the 
cabin passengers. With quick, deft movements she 
pulls up a basket filled with Irish knickknacks, such 
as pipes, crosses, pigs, spoons and forks made of 
bog-wood; these, with knit shawls and similar 
articles, she displays on deck, and it would be diffi- 
cult to find a prettier, wittier, more attractive speci- 
men of old Ireland's lasses than this. By means of 
her ready tongue she disposes of all her wares, and 
when the whistle warns all hands to leave the deck, 
she glides gracefully down the rope, and settling 
herself in her little boat, pulls for the shore. 

This is our last stop until we reach New York. 
The anchor is pulled up, and away we go steaming 
on our homeward voyage. The little steam tug 




" Several small boats are floating at our side." {See page jj4. 



•I 



A Prussian Capital 357 

runs along beside us for a time, then the whistles of 
both vessels blow a farewell to each other, and our 
little comrade gradually fades from our sight. 

Suddenly a heavy fog comes up, and the incessant 
blowing of the fog-horn is a tiresome sound: but 
the wind follows up the mist and scatters it far and 
wide, and now we have the boundless prospect of 
the ocean before us. 

" Strongly it bears us along in smiling and limitless billows, 
Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the 
ocean." 

As we gaze upon it day after day, its beauty and 
grandeur grow upon us more and more. I can think 
of no better words than those of Childe Harold 
which so beautifully express the thoughts the scene 
inspires. 

" Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll. 

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control 

Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain 

The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain 
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own. 

When, for a moment, like a drop of rain. 
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan. 
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown." 

Then, as if by magic, the huge waves lessen in 
their angry murmurs, the surface becomes quiet and 



358 Odd Bits of Travel 

calm; evening creeps on, and the glow from a de- 
scending sun illuminates the scene. As I look upon 
this beautiful and restful picture, I think how true 
the words: 

" Beyond is all abyss, 
Eternity, whose end no eye can reach." 



The reading of this book has no doubt been a 
pleasure and a profit to you. Then why not recom- 
mend it to your friends ? You will find cards on 
the inside of the bach cover to assist you. 




Beyond is all aljyss, 

Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 



{See page J jS.) 



BY THE AUTHOR OF ODD BITS 



The British Isles through an Opera Glass 

By CHARLES M. TAYLOR, Jr. 
Author of " Vacation Days in Hawaii and Japan." AVith 
48 full-page illustrations, principally from photographs. 
Crown 8vo, about 350 pages, deckle edge paper, cloth 
jacket, in box, $2.00. 



What is said of "The British Isles" 

Mr. Taylor has the knack of making the story of his j ourney ings enter- 
taining to the public. The usual descriptions of time-worn scenes give 
place to charming personal narrative, and a wealth of incident and episode 
gives to the book an exceptional interest. The fine half-tones of English 
scenes liberally scattered through the work greatly enhance its charm. — 
The Philadelphia Call. 

It is a record of a pleasant tour by the less frequented paths of travel, 
not only in England, but in Scotland and Ireland. The author takes little 
from the guide books and their familiar histories, but notes many interesting 
details that attracted his own attention. Furthermore he has illustrated his 
book witn a large number of photographs, both of places and people, that 
are quite out of the common run, and the pictures alone would suffice to 
give ihe volume distinction. — The Philadelphia Times. 

The book is all the eye could wish, and as we turn the pages quickly 
from one to another of the forcy-eight beautiful photographic illustrations a 
veritable panorama passes before us. The author is enthusiastic over what 
he saw in the British Isles, and he is evidently desirous of sharing his pleas- 
ure with those who have not been privileged to see for themselves. — The 
Philadelphia American. 

It is a luxurious volume that records the interesting travels of one who 
knows how to pen vivid word pictures of places where those who love travel 
would like to be. — The Bookseller. 

Mr. Taylor traveled through the British Isles with an observing eye, 
a ready note-book, and a camera which he used with discreet intelligence. 
The narrative is brightly written and abounds in anecdote, while the per- 
sonal point of view is ever present and adds a touch of piquancy. The volume 
is beautifully made, and the photographs, about fifty in number, are par- 
ticularly well reproduced in half-tones — The Philadelphia Press. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent post-paid upon receipt of 
the price by the publishers 

GEORGE W, JACOBS &, CO. 

X03-105 South Fifteenth Street Philadelphia, Pa, 






■^'■■^■ 



BY THE AUTHOR OF ODD BITS 



Vacation Days in Hawaii and Japan 

By CHARLES M. TAYLOR, Jr. 

With over loo half-tone illustrations, principally from 
photographs. Crown 8vo. 361 pages, gilt top, uncut 
edges. With unique cover design. Price, $2.00. 



What is said of " Vacation Days " 

Mr. Taylor is a keen observer, who penetrated beyond the beaten 
track of the usual tourist, and his sketches of Home Life, Natural Beauties 
and Every-day scenes, have individuality and charm. — Literary News, 

The narrative is written in a clear, easy style, with an aptitude for 
giving just that kind of information concerning every-day Ufe which people 
miss too often in books of travel. — Philadelphia Press. 

A very interesting feature of the book is the numerous pictures from 
photographs taken by the author of "Japanese people," men, women and 
children, engaged at their ordinary vocations, also pictures of Japanese 
scenery, shops, living rooms and temples. These illustrations are remark- 
eble for their realism. — Indianapolis Journal. 

The book recounts the incidents of a recent tour through Hawaii and 
Japan. The special value of the narrative is that it covers points of in- 
terest in these specially interesting countries not usually recorded in the 
guide books and ordinary books of travel. — The Philadelphia Call. 

A four months' trip through Hawaii and Japan is narrated in this com- 
pact and entertaining volume. Mr. Taylor applies systematic methods to 
his sight-seeing. He is an appreciative observer as well. He was not con- 
tent with well beaten paths and hence his record is clear, picturesque and 
fresh. — The Philadelphia Ledger. 

Two conspicuous merits this capital travel book has over the average 
in its class ; it describes new grounds and scenes, and the narrative ripples 
along with the ease and liveliness of a brook. Without professing to be 
specially instructive, Mr. Taylor conveys a great amount of information 
such as we all enjoy when told in this pleasant way, blending the matter 
of fact with the entertaining. — The Philadelphia American. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent post-paid upon receipt of 
the price by the publishers 

GEORGE W. JACOBS S, CO. 

103-105 South Fifteenth Street Philadelphia, Pa. 



